


How Eager and Young We Once Were

by KiwiBerry



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Abstinence, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Getting Back Together, Infertility, M/M, Male Pregnancy, Omega Bucky Barnes, Porn With Plot, Together Before the War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-29 04:55:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21404527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiwiBerry/pseuds/KiwiBerry
Summary: Steve lost the love of his life, his other half, during the war. But now Bucky's alive and Steve doesn't know where to even begin.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, implied
Comments: 30
Kudos: 460





	1. Past

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SorceressoftheFake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SorceressoftheFake/gifts).

> This is a fic written for the lovely sorceressofthefake! Thank you so much for presenting me with such awesome ideas. 
> 
> Shout out to my lovely betas, astudyinsolitude and Bucky Bear. I couldn't have done this without you!

Steve loved having Bucky pressed against him. The feel of Bucky’s hands wound in his hair, chest pressed against his and face buried deep into the crook of his neck, mouth warm and open against his skin. God, just the smell of Bucky could send him into a spin, the warm undertones of leather and earth after a downpour. That lingering hint of lavender when he’d drag his teeth over Bucky’s skin, earning a full body shudder in return. 

“God, Stevie,” Bucky said into his skin, hips canting forward and sending a shiver down Steve’s back. Steve’s hands pressed soothing circles into his hips, trying his best not to rock back and give in to what his body screamed at him to do. “I just want—I need you--” 

“Shh,” Steve said, raising a hand to run gentle fingers through his hair. He placed a small kiss to the side of his face before urging Bucky to raise his head. When he did, Steve felt his breath catch and a wave of overwhelming heat course through him. His grip tightened, and he had to remind himself to breathe. “I know, Buck. Trust me, I know.” 

And he did. He knew just how much Bucky wanted him, needed him. But they couldn’t, not yet. 

“Christ,” Bucky breathed, watching Steve with glazed eyes before leaning into the hand on his face. He turned into the touch, pressing warm lips to the skin of Steve’s palm, tongue darting out momentarily. 

A suppressed growl rumbled within Steve’s chest, and Bucky whined in reply, quick to accept his invitation for a kiss. Bucky’s whole body seemed to sigh into Steve’s mouth, pressing imperceptibly closer. For all that Steve was significantly smaller than Bucky, he didn’t seem to mind. The feel of Bucky wrapped around him, the scent of him enveloping his very being, was more than enough. He wanted to rub his scent all over Bucky, to have the man smell as much like him as he could, to signal to the rest of the world that Bucky was his and his alone.

Bucky made a needy noise then, and Steve answered back by pressing into his mouth further, teeth pulling at his lips, bruising. Bucky lifted his hips in reply, audibly swallowing a breath before breaking away. 

“I know I’ve said it before,” he began, breath heavy and labored, eyes a bit wild. “But, god, Steve, you’re so---” 

“I know,” Steve smirked, pride swelling in him like an idiot. For all he despised his small frame most days, Bucky always made sure to remind him of just how big he was where it mattered most. “Some days I have to wonder if that’s all that attracts you to me.” 

Steve hadn’t meant to let that part slip, his insecurities bleeding into the moment he needed them the least. He knew Bucky loved him, knew how much Bucky wanted him. Christ, they’d talked about it so many times: the perfect family, kids, a dog, and that white picket fence life. And one day they would have it; but not yet, not now. 

Bucky grabbed Steve’s face with both hands to pull him into a searing kiss, daring to push the limits by canting himself forward. Steve’s thoughts spiraled and his body felt overwhelmed by a need to reply, to push Bucky down onto the couch and just fucking _take him_, make all of him his. Bucky’s tongue explored his mouth leisurely, making these mewling noises as he pushed up onto his knees and shoved Steve’s head into the top of the couch. Bucky pinned him there, and continued kissing him senseless. 

Steve savored the feeling, the overwhelming power Bucky emitted over him while knowing that he could move Bucky with a single word, a momentary flick of the eyes. Bucky would do anything Steve said in moments like this, and the thrill of that power helped him push back against his own aching lust. 

Bucky gasped the moment Steve’s hands lifted to roam across his chest, thumbs pressing over clothed nipples. Bucky attempted to keep kissing him, but Steve only pressed harder, pinching one with two fingers before Bucky pulled away completely, looking utterly broken. 

“Steve,” Bucky said and it came out as a desperate plea, voice begging for Steve to stop teasing and make up his mind. Steve knew all of Bucky’s sensitive spots and all the different sounds he would make, so he knew where to avoid to ensure they didn’t cross that line. 

“We can’t, Buck,” Steve reminded, pressing a gentle kiss to Bucky’s still slick lips. Bucky tried to follow, but Steve’s hand against his chest stopped him short. 

“Damn the rules, Steve,” Bucky cursed, letting his head fall forward into Steve’s shoulder, defeated. “Damn what they say. I want you. And you want me. Isn’t that enough?” 

Steve let out a chuckle and begin carding a hand through Bucky’s hair. It’d gotten a bit scraggly, longer than normal. He’d probably need it cut soon. “If I said yes, would you be satisfied?” 

Bucky seemed to think about it a moment before shaking his head. “Of course not. I want to do this right, but it’s so goddamn hard.” Steve couldn’t hold back his next laugh, and Bucky reared back to shoot him a look. 

“I know, Buck,” Steve placated, reaching up to plant a quick kiss on his nose in apology. It was the same conversation they’d always have, too caught up in the heat of the moment to want to think clearly. This time it was Bucky lost in the motions, and it was Steve’s job to pull him back out. “What time is it?” 

Bucky turned in Steve’s lap to look at the clock on the side table. “I need to get ready.” He began disentangling himself from Steve and ran a few hands through his hair as he stood, untangling it. 

“I need to shower,” he announced then, like the thought pained him, and Steve knew the feeling.

“Go, I’ll be here.” 

Bucky watched him for a few moments, like he didn’t quite believe him, but then leaned down to press a light kiss to Steve’s hair. “I know.” 

With that he disappeared and Steve closed his eyes before settling back into the couch. He tried to even out his breathing with long, even breaths. _He’s still here, Rogers_, he reminded himself, pushing back the ache that was building in his chest. _He’s not leaving yet_. 

The last night before Bucky shipped out, they went to the Stark Expo. Steve was blindsided once again with what the future could hold, what people were able to even think up as possible. But it was nowhere near the excitement Bucky held the entire night, running from exhibit to exhibit like a child at his first fair while dragging Steve around to talk to inventors and other guests. His eyes shone with a childish wonder Steve hadn’t seen in a long time, and the sight made his heart ache. 

“Flying cars, can you believe it,” Bucky sighed dreamily, taking off his hat and placing it on the hook by the door. Bucky had moved into Steve’s place after his mom died, and the two had basically co-habitated ever since. It wasn’t exactly approved of, seeing as how the two were unmated, but Bucky’s parents didn’t seem to mind and Steve really had no one to answer to but himself now. When needed, one of them could always stay with Bucky’s family, a little distance helpful during the worst heats. 

Steve hummed in reply to Bucky’s words, only half listening. Bucky seemed to catch on as he quickly spun Steve around from where he was hanging up his coat. 

“Hey,” Steve said, a bit breathless at the newfound proximity, and Bucky just grinned. 

“Hi, there.” Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve, and began rocking back and forth slowly. Eventually he began humming, low and gentle. “Ever thought you’d get to slow dance with a soldier?” The remark was meant to be light and quipping, but Steve found it only a dark reminder. 

“I’m going to miss you,” he said, and the words were spoken low enough that Bucky hesitated in their dance before tilting Steve’s face up by the chin. 

“Don’t go missing me just yet,” Bucky soothed before leaning down to meet Steve in a chaste kiss. “Right now, I’m all yours.” 

Steve made a pleased noise at that, hands wrapping around Bucky to lay his palms flat against his lower back. He couldn’t help but grin as he moved them lower, slow and appreciative. “All mine,” Steve repeated, and tried to push away any thoughts of what was to come. 

Steve awoke to an empty bed and Bucky shaking him gently. 

“Hey,” Steve said, voice hoarse and groggy. Bucky smiled, amused, and leaned down to press a kiss to his lips. “Leaving already?” 

“Can’t be late,” Bucky reminded, and grabbed the pack he’d set by the bed. Steve finally sat up, rubbing at his eyes, and Bucky sat on the bed without being asked. He knew what Steve wanted. 

Steve pulled Bucky into his arms tenderly, rubbing his face into the crook of Bucky’s neck, and made sure his scent exuded calmness and security; a sense of belonging and home. Bucky breathed in through his nose, eyes closed, and Steve could practically taste the lavender in the air, the familiar smell of a morning after rain. Steve placed a not so chaste kiss to Bucky’s neck before pulling away, enjoying the fact that Bucky’s smell was now mixed with his own. He’d never been able smell it himself, but Bucky assured him it smelled something of clean linens hung out to dry and wisps of musty incense from their church. When Steve was happy, Bucky swore he smelled like theatre popcorn, good enough to eat. 

“Don’t wait up. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Bucky stood, hefting his pack over his shoulder before readjusting his cap. “Don’t do anything stupid until I get back.” 

Steve rolled his eyes. “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” 

Bucky tried to be annoyed, but his smile slipped through and he grabbed Steve’s hand, pressing a kiss to it. “I love you.” 

Steve swallowed heavily, resisting the urge to never let go. “I know.” 

Bucky moved to leave but turned around after a few steps, a determined expression on his face. “If—no, when I come back, I want you to promise me something.” 

Steve was suddenly very awake, like a cold bucket of water had been thrown over him. “Anything you want, sweetheart.” The endearment came easier to him now after years of Bucky teasing him for holding back. 

Bucky remained solid in his approach, only a flick of his gaze relaying any hesitation. “When I come back, the very second I come home, I want us to make it official.” 

Steve hated how scared his voice came out next. “Buck--” 

“No, Stevie, I need you to listen to me.” And oh, Steve could hear the plea in Bucky’s voice now, could practically taste now how scared the man was. “I love you. I’ve always loved you, and I want it to be real. Not that what we’ve been doing hasn’t been real, but--” He paused, sucking in a breath, before continuing. “I know we’ve talked about it, but between your mom and the war, I just don’t want us to be stuck waiting forever.” 

The words hung heavy in the air, and Steve wasted only a moment before throwing himself from the bed and taking those few steps to wrap his arms around Bucky’s chest, breathing in deep enough to calm his now fraying nerves. 

“I get it,” he said in the silence that followed, hands digging into the fabric of Bucky’s uniform, not caring that he was wrinkling the material. Maybe if Bucky was disheveled enough they’d just send him home. “I--I want the same thing, Buck.” He looked up, and found Bucky hanging on his every word. “I want you, all of you. If you’ll have me.” 

“Steve,” was all Bucky said before crushing Steve to his chest, burying his face in his hair. “Christ, of course I will. I’ll always want you. All of you. Always.” 

Steve could feel the shudders Bucky was holding back, could smell the sorrow washing over him, and he did all he could to be strong. To emit strength and resilience and love all directed towards Bucky. A few moments passed and Bucky seemed to regain himself, pulling back to rub at his eyes. 

“Punk,” he said, tone aiming for annoyance. 

Steve hid his own emotions with a smile as best he could. “Jerk,” he shot back, and allowed Bucky to kiss him once more. 

Steve felt like he couldn’t breathe. His chest was tight, panic still pushing up his throat as he made his way to his own tent. He was still dirty and bloodied - though not his own - and wanted nothing more than to wash away the day’s grime. But he’d been kicked out of the medical tent after refusing to leave Bucky’s side, and he refused to remain indignant in front of his fellow soldiers. No matter how much he wanted to be next to Bucky, to breathe in his scent and remind himself that they were both here, together, and alive despite the odds. Steve knew he was still a soldier first and foremost, and so was Bucky. No matter how much it hurt to walk away, personal relationships had to come second just like with everyone else. Even if he was Captain goddamn America. 

Steve tried to occupy his time with writing up a report of what happened. Tried to recall what he’d seen and how many soldiers he’d taken out. It kept his mind focused and quiet enough not to be constantly searching for that familiar scent; that voice he longed to hear call his name over and over again. 

It was close to chow when Steve heard someone approach his tent. For a moment, he wondered if it would be Peggy. She’d been so shocked by Steve’s sudden assertiveness, his need to leave the camp even when ordered not to. As a fellow alpha, she understood, but something about his actions seemed to still leave her a bit overwhelmed. 

Steve felt all the tension in his body disappear the moment he saw Bucky push aside the flap, the small drops of lingering rain suddenly loud against the material. 

“Am I interrupting?” he asked, looking around the space a moment. It was bigger than the others since Steve was still considered an entertainer rather than a soldier. He hoped that would be changing soon. “So, you got taller.” 

The comment was so nonchalant Steve felt the need to laugh. But it came second to his need to wrap Bucky up in his arms and never let go. 

This made Bucky laugh instead, allowing Steve to pull him close, before falling suddenly quiet. 

“Buck?” Steve asked, pulling back to look into his eyes. It was strange to have to tilt his head down now to do so.

Bucky only watched him, one hand now tracing idly over the side of his face, cradling his jaw. It moved to smooth over his shoulder, his chest, before pausing over his stomach. He raised an arched brow. 

“Perk of the serum,” Steve confessed, feeling suddenly shy. He was still getting used to the body, having only realized recently just how powerful it had become. He hoped he didn’t overwhelm Bucky because of it, or, god forbid, turn him off. “Do you, uh, not like it?” 

Bucky’s eyes widened a fraction, and he bit his lip. His roaming hand moved lower until it settled over Steve’s crotch, squeezing lightly. “I’m going to need you to shut up and kiss me now.” 

Steve was more than happy to oblige. 

It was raining and Steve couldn’t stop himself from pushing Bucky, bruised and battle worn, up against the nearest tree to kiss him senseless. They and the rest of the Howling Commandos had just taken out a rather bothersome squadron of enemy soldiers and while the others were setting up camp, Steve had volunteered to conduct a perimeter check. Bucky seemed to catch on, and was quick to follow. 

“Steve,” Bucky finally said when he could, two hands coming up to cradle Steve’s face. Steve let his gaze flicker down a moment, swallowing hard as he caught sight of the blood on Bucky’s shirt, now dried and flaking. “I told you already. I’m fine--” 

Steve let a growl escape his lips before moving in for another kiss, this one slower and lasting what felt like forever, as if deliberately aiming to suffocate. Bucky took it in full stride though, hands falling from Steve’s face down and over his chest, holding tight. Steve felt Bucky’s breath hitch, a small flinch of an inhale that was half choked. Only then did Steve allow him to breath. 

Bucky took in a few quick, shallow breaths before settling. His eyes were now blown and his scent was making Steve dizzy. The rain was cascading over his face in large droplets, brown hair sticking to his forehead, and if Steve didn’t know better he might have thought Bucky had been crying. 

Bucky surprised him then by wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him close again, both of them now leaning their combined weight against the tree. Steve took the moment to bask in Bucky’s scent, calming in a way he could never explain, and Bucky seemed to do the same, body relaxing immediately into Steve’s. 

“I’m okay,” he breathed when his hands finally gripped the back of Steve’s shirt. His face was resting firmly in Steve’s shoulder, reassuring. “I’m here, and I’m okay.” Steve felt the need to argue, anger and an unsettling possessiveness coursing through him. But then there was that smell of lavender mixed with the rain and Bucky speaking softly into his ear and the feeling passed, settling into a deep, sedated calm. 

“You’re here,” Steve said, more to himself than Bucky, and finally relaxed into the touch, eyes closing against the downpour around them. _You’re alive_.

Steve kept his large tent amidst his own complaints. They argued a symbol like Steve needed to be idolized, and to be idolized is to be seen as barely human. It felt like being on stage with a line of chorus girls all over again. But Bucky stayed with him most nights, reminding Steve that he had more than enough room for two and an actual bed that Bucky loved to fling himself onto and curl under the thin blanket. Whenever he did Steve liked to imagine they were back at the apartment, lounging around on an evening before dinner and just enjoying each other’s silence. 

Other nights they’d argue, mainly about upcoming missions or past mistakes. They’d worry about each other constantly, and it was a flaw most of the Commandos had pointed out to them on multiple occasions. Peggy defended them whenever she could, always one to stand up for Steve, a fellow Alpha, but there was only so much she could do. So they did their best to not let their feelings bleed into their job, to not come up between whizzing bullets and foreign commands. This lead to results, but still left them both restless and wanting. 

On Steve’s favorite nights, Bucky lay underneath him with a wicked grin on his face while Steve kissed his neck, biting light enough to not leave obvious marks. Bucky would arch into him teasingly and make those small whines that he knew drove Steve senseless. It was almost a game between them now, aching to drive the other crazy without crossing the lines they’d set for themselves. 

On one particular night, Bucky was restless and Steve felt so bothered by it he could barely focus on giving his mouth the attention it deserved. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked finally, pushing up on his elbows to give Bucky one of his patented looks. It took only a moment for Bucky to break beneath it. 

“That’s just it,” Bucky explained, breathless as he reached a hand to run through Steve’s hair. “Nothing’s wrong. Christ, Steve. We’re in the middle of a war and you’re here and we’re---” He gestured between the two of them with his free hand, and sighed. “I guess it just all feels a bit...too good to be true, you know?” 

Steve could understand that. For all their worries before Bucky had shipped off, their relationship was still going strong and, dare he say, even better than before. There was this added level that came with fighting alongside each other, equals on battlefield in the eyes of others than themselves. It seemed to solidify the thing between them, and Steve could understand how that might terrify someone. Especially an unmated omega surrounded by war and death. 

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. You know that,” Steve practically purred, nuzzling under Bucky’s jaw. He breathed in the man’s scent and did his best to exude his own. To calm Bucky and let him know that he was safe, that he was his. 

Bucky’s shaky inhale was more than enough of an answer and Steve smirked as he moved one hand down to settle on the skin of Bucky’s hip, slowly moving it up and over his stomach. Bucky leaned into the contact, making pleased noises, and Steve took the opportunity to move his hand even further, brushing fingers over a sensitive nipple. A shiver shook Bucky’s body then and a hand grabbed Steve’s bicep, squeezing tight. 

“Keep doing that,” Bucky encouraged, and Steve was more than happy to do just that.. 

Between dragging his teeth over Bucky’s lips, biting oh so gently, and letting his hands run over Bucky’s chest, fingers flicking and squeezing teasingly, Steve had the man practically squirming beneath him, mouth open and pliant when Steve captured it for a slow kiss. Steve couldn’t deny that he was hard, aching against Bucky’s hip as he dragged the two of them together, and the knowledge that Bucky was just as eager, practically dripping for Steve, sent a ghost of a shiver down his spine. 

Bucky let out a too loud whine when Steve pulled away. He sat himself upright, taking a moment to breath and shake himself calm. A few deep breaths would do it, but Bucky had needily followed Steve up. He pushed back so he could crawl into Steve’s lap and bury his face in his neck, nosing at the skin there while his hands pulled restlessly at the back of Steve’s shirt. 

“Buck?” Steve asked, a bit thrown by the other’s actions. There was a newfound desperateness to his movements that was surprising. Bucky didn’t have a heat coming up, and if he had the two would have made arrangements to sleep separately, just to be safe. So where was this coming from all of a sudden? 

“I want you,” Bucky breathed just below Steve’s ear, voice coarse and low. “I need you so much, Stevie. Christ. I want you to touch me, to fill me, to—to make me yours. Tell me how much I’m yours. Please.” 

Steve tried not to let the desperate words get to him, but the sensation still crept over him, a haze of lust he could barely hold back. It was almost too much to bear. So, to distract himself, he ran soothing hands up and down Bucky’s back, holding him close. “You’ve always been mine, Buck. Always. And you always will be. When this is all over I’ll make sure of it.” And he would. He would make Bucky his and not even God himself would be able to stop him. The thought sent a thrill of pleasure through him, and something in his scent must have changed because Bucky was moaning into his skin now, followed quickly by small, whimpering noises. 

Steve’s immediate instinct was to comfort so he moved his hands to cradle Bucky to him by the back of his thighs, but that only seemed to turn Bucky on more as he jerked into Steve, their chests now pressed firmly together. “Buck?” 

“I...I want be yours, Steve. All yours, so badly,” he confessed before pulling his face out of Steve’s neck, staring directly into his eyes. Steve had never seen Bucky’s pupils so dilated, eyes hazy and unfocused. “I want you to make me all yours and be reminded of it all the time. I want us to be together, forever.”

Steve couldn’t hold back the growl that tore from the back of his throat and he surged forward to kiss Bucky again. He couldn’t keep himself from being a bit more rough than usual, from licking into Bucky’s pliant mouth and tugging at his lips just to enjoy the red sheen he’d get in reply. “We will be, sweetheart. And we’ll have it all,” he assured, peppering his words with intermittent kisses while his hand roamed from Bucky’s thighs to over his ass, squeezing to punctuate his point. “Kids. A house. Hell, we can even get a dog. Maybe two. Whatever you want, we’ll have it. Whatever you need, I’ll give it to you. All you have to do is--” 

“Touch me,” Bucky interrupted, eyes suddenly unfocused and desperate. Steve’s hands were on his ass, and Bucky was pushing back into them. Steve didn’t try to hide his surprise. 

“Buck--” 

“I know,” Buck said, closing his eyes a moment. “I know, but just this once I need--” He let out a shaky breath, choking back a groan. “Just this once, and then I’ll take care of it myself. I promise. I just need...” 

He trailed off as Steve ran a comforting hand over his face and through his hair. Bucky leaned into the touch, practically nuzzling his hand, and Steve felt himself unable to say no to the man in front of him. Bucky was nervous, maybe even scared, and if doing this much could calm him then so be it. 

Steve moved one hand to run over Bucky’s lower back, earning him a pleased sigh. He let Bucky lean into him as he began trailing fingers lightly over his spine, hopefully calming, before dipping lower, the tips of his fingers disappearing beneath the hem of Bucky’s pants. 

Bucky jerked at the contact, but didn’t shy away. He only leaned into Steve more, muttering incomprehensibly as his body trembled. Steve waited before moving deeper, following the curve of his ass. 

Steve had always imagined Bucky getting wet for him, being slick and dripping with want, but feeling it against his fingers, smooth and warm, made him dizzy with lust. He pushed his fingers farther, reveling in how wet Bucky was, practically soaked, before finally running a finger over the small divot between his cheeks. 

Bucky threw his head back at the touch, back arching as Steve pressed against him but never inside. No, they couldn’t. Not yet. They’d made a promise, and no matter how crazy things got between them they would keep it. They’d planned that day so many times, arguing about where they’d do it and what they’d do beforehand. If they’d tell Bucky’s parents, maybe go to dinner, or if they’d just spend a whole day lazing around the apartment, enjoying each other’s touch, taste, smell. 

Steve knew Bucky was getting louder, and that they needed to stop. The man was practically shaking against him, muttering his name over and over again as he pushed down into Steve’s hand, seemingly granting him permission. But Steve knew that it was just the lust, the need and want overpowering their senses, their reason. They’d both regret it before it was over, no matter how much they wanted it now. 

Steve pulled his hand out slowly, and Bucky was audibly displeased at the loss of Steve’s touch. Steve enjoyed the sound greatly and filed it away for when he’d need to take care of himself. For now, he needed to leave Bucky alone. 

“Please don’t,” Bucky practically begged, but Steve could see the clarity reforming in his eyes. He knew the words were nothing more than instinctual, clawing their way out of his pleasure starved mouth. 

Steve disentangled himself from Bucky, and raised the now sticky hand to his mouth. He licked the finger inquisitively, letting it linger on his lips, before wiping the remaining off on his pants. He shouldn’t have been surprised when Bucky moved to capture his slightly wet lips, practically chasing after his own taste in Steve’s mouth. The thought turned him on more than he’d imagined. 

Steve didn’t want to push Bucky away, but he knew he had to. He was practically aching through his own pants, and he knew the sight would only push Bucky that much further. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I have to go.” 

Bucky’s entire body screamed with disappointment, but his eyes were clearer than they’d been and he only nodded. “Sorry,” he muttered eventually, gaze now on the bed. 

Steve leaned forward to press a kiss to the top of his head, lingering. “Don’t be. I’m the one who indulged you.” He smiled, trying his best to reassure Bucky, hoping his own scent could match the sentiment. 

Bucky closed his eyes, leaning into Steve’s space, and inhaled, shoulders sagging. “Would you mind bringing back some water and a cloth?” 

Steve could only nod. “Of course.” With that, he made to leave the tent, but stopped when Bucky called out. 

“Steve?” 

Steve turned, heart leaping at the sound of his own name escaping Bucky’s lips. “Yeah?” 

“I love you,” he confessed before smirking. “Punk.” 

Steve could have laughed. “Love you too.” And then, just because he could, “Jerk.” 

Steve hated the serum. He hated Dr. Erskine for introducing it to him. He hated him for creating this version of him that couldn’t drink himself into a stupor even after a whole bottle of whiskey, and then another half. He didn’t want to feel anything, not anymore. It was like he’d been ripped in half, split right down the middle. He didn’t feel like Steve Rogers anymore, a soldier and friend. He just felt like a monster who’d gotten his best friend, the love of his life, killed in action. 

Steve reached for the second bottle he’d started on, not even bothering anymore with the cup. He took a long swig, savoring the burn while it cascaded down his throat before disappearing into nothing. He hated that feeling, that inability to escape the now. He would have cried, but his eyes hurt and he didn’t think he had anything left in him to feel much of anything anymore. 

It had been hours since he walked away from the Commandos, from Peggy and the other soldiers. They’d packed up, began making way to ship out to wherever they would go next, and Steve had only dressed himself after having Peggy scold him like his own mother would have, reminding him that Bucky would have hated to see him so pathetic in front of the others. The words had hurt but he knew they were supposed to, and some part of that shame had helped him get through the movements of donning his standard uniform. 

But now he could only sit in the empty bar, tables and chairs in disarray around him while the sound of small footsteps echoed behind him. He knew she would come to collect him eventually, most likely on orders from his higher ups to get his ass in line, but Steve didn’t give a damn about what they wanted. He’d just lost the other half of himself, the other half of his future, so for all he cared everyone else could eat goddamn shit. 

“Steve,” Peggy said into the empty bar, and Steve could practically feel her Alpha presence looming over his, trying her best to be in charge. To hopefully push him into action. But unluckily for her, he didn’t care about the warring Alpha scent in the room. At least, not anymore. None of it mattered, now. Nothing mattered.

“Steve,” she tried again, but this time it was softer, more empathetic, and he almost hated that more. He could feel his own walls rising higher and higher. He just wanted to be left alone. “Steve, look. I know how you feel--” 

Steve slammed the bottle in his hand down on the table, holding back the urge to round on the woman and growl. What the hell did she know? She didn’t understand. No one could. Steve had lost everything, and there was no one else to blame but himself. 

“We found him,” Peggy continued on, and Steve hated himself for hoping for the impossible. “Red Skull. We know where he is, but we have to move now.” 

Red Skull. Steve hated him, but he hated the man’s scientist, Dr. Zola, even more. He’d experimented on Bucky, tried to kill him, to kill both of them, and the two together had succeeded in getting rid of one half of the whole. Maybe, if he could get to them, then maybe he could--- 

Steve finally turned in his seat, barely taking notice of Peggy frozen in the doorway. “When do we leave?” 

If Bucky was there, Steve was so sure he’d be laughing at him. Never in his life did he think he’d be commandeering a plane. The only piece of heavy machinery he’d had a chance to drive was his motorcycle, and that was only after the serum. Yet here he was, steering an overly large aircraft over the Arctic with no landing in sight. He could hear Peggy’s voice on the radio, but it was distant and hazy compared to the voices in his head, most of which sounded like Bucky. 

“Steve? Steve, can you hear me? Is there anywhere for you to land?” 

Steve only had to glance out the windows of the craft before replying. “There’s nowhere. It’s just ocean for miles.” A pause and then ..._God, Rogers, are you always this reckless when I’m not around?_ “I’m going to have to crash it.” 

Peggy said something after that, probably telling him not to, that it wasn’t worth it. But Steve had nothing to go back to, not now, and if it meant saving the world from whatever crazy magic the blue cube contained so be it. 

He could hear Peggy pleading with him now, but the wind from the crack in the window was roaring as the plane took its final dive and began descending, faster and faster. All Steve could do now was control its fall, aim for somewhere without ice, open water. 

Right before he hit the water, Steve closed his eyes. Even as the cold of it seeped into him, drowning him inside the broken plane, all he could think about was warm brown eyes and the sound of someone calling his name, voice warm and bright. 

_Dammit, Stevie. What kind of mess did you get yourself into this time?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 and 3 will be posting tomorrow! Apologies for the wait.


	2. Present

Steve felt like hell. He ached, and he was covered in soot and weird gray alien goop. Running a hand through his hair, he shook out some of the rubble that had rested there. He wanted a shower. More than that, he just wanted to rest. But he couldn’t. Not yet. The team needed him to help in the aftermath of the attack, and that meant answering Shield’s questions and putting on a pretty face for the cameras. 

New York had gone through hell and back, but its citizens were as lively as ever. Steve liked to think he found some comfort in that, some familiarity. One small thing out of the chaos of the twenty first century that helped relax his shoulders, just a bit. 

Back at the tower, or what was left of it, Steve met up with the other Avengers. They were all showered, dressed casually, and obviously exhausted. The sun was already setting for the day, and he knew there was nothing more everyone wanted than to fall onto the nearest flat surface and pass out. 

He tried to make the meeting as short as possible, tried not to take the lead too much, especially with Tony. For an Omega, the man was very assertive and very, very bold. He spoke his mind, did what he wanted, and waved his hands at the rules. A refreshing characteristic of an Omega to be sure, but still strange enough to make him survey the room for reactions. But he found out quickly that no one was bothered much by Tony’s antics, Clint and Natasha practically bored by it all. It was just yet another thing Steve would need to get used to. 

“Alright, well, if the Captain is all done with the political and legal jargon,” Tony said, clapping his hands together with a smile, “I think we can all agree it is well past time we all went home. Which for some of you is likely right down the hall.” He laughed a little at his own joke, and even winked in Steve’s direction. When no one spoke up, Tony continued. “Fantastic! Well if you’ll excuse me, I have a fiery redhead waiting downstairs with a sexy list of numbers she has been dying to yell at me for.” 

With a lazy wave, Tony retreated from the conference room they’d gathered in and the rest of the team seemed to follow suite. Steve watched them gather themselves slowly, and tried not to look too out of place. Thor would be going back to Asgard, and Bruce to the lab Tony had generously given him. Wherever Natasha went Clint would be right behind. The smell of Natasha on Clint was so overwhelming at times that even Steve had to remind himself that the woman wasn’t actively trying to pick a fight with him. She smelled of gunpowder and cinnamon, and it mixed strangely with the bitter smell of fresh cedar and coffee grounds, a smell as perplexing as Clint himself. As far as Steve knew they weren’t mated, but that didn’t seem to hinder the extreme bond between them. He tried his best not to be too jealous. 

That night, Steve lay awake long into the night. The bed beneath him was almost too soft, a part of him feeling like he was going to slip right through it and into a gaping black hole. The apartment he’d woken up in in Brooklyn had been nice, but it had also felt too much like home for him to be comfortable. It had been a fake - a convincing fake, yes, but off by just enough to leave him feeling unnerved and out of place. The tower was almost the complete opposite, something strange and new. But he could work with that, could work with the knowledge of it being real and genuine, even if it was so, so different from where he’d been. 

He stared at the hard grays of the ceiling above him, trying his best to clear his mind. He’d been so distracted with aliens and gods and green scientists and men flying in armored suits that for a moment he almost forgot about himself before the ice. But after all the fighting had died down, and the team had disassembled, those thoughts creeped back over him like a sickness, his chest tightening like one of his asthma attacks. 

The war came to him most often accompanied by the sounds of gunfire and the smell of wet earth. Men shouting over explosions, and blood and sweat sticking to his skin. He would be reminded of the Commandos, of Peggy fierce and armed. Most often, though, his thoughts would drift to Bucky. Bucky sitting in their apartment, poking at Steve as he worked on a sketch. Bucky pressing a cold cloth to his forehead when he was bedridden with the flu. Bucky, pulling him away from a fight and kissing him until he calmed down. Bucky shifting beneath him, inhaling Steve’s scent and practically purring into his skin. 

Steve cursed himself and turned over in the bed, facing one of the large windows. He tried his best to push back the want, the need to touch, to satisfy, but the instinct outweighed the shroud of guilt he wrapped himself in. The adrenaline of the day’s fight mixed with the intriguing smells of foreign omegas had lit a spark in Steve’s body, a dull thrum that he’d ignored most of the day. But the day was over, the world finally quiet, and he found that thrum working into a not so dull roar. He had known his rut was coming, long overdue after years in the ice, but he had tried his best to ignore it. 

He didn’t stop his hand as it slipped over his hip and against his cock, letting out a relieved sigh at the shock of pleasure it sent through his body. He wasn’t hard, but he knew it would only take a few strokes, a few careful memories, and his body would follow along; do what it was programmed to do, what he wanted it to. 

Steve tried to empty his mind as he stroked. He tried to think about nothing but his own touch, his own hand and the feel of his cock on his palm. He’d never been one for fantasizing about faceless bodies or people he barely knew. It always felt like a breach of privacy somehow, a betrayal. Only once had he even flickered his thoughts to Peggy, another alpha, and even then it had quickly morphed into Bucky, chiding and snarky and teasing Steve right up until the edge. 

“Buck,” Steve gasped before he registered it, cock hardening in his hand as his stroked harder, faster. God, the smell of Bucky had always been intoxicating, welcoming in a way that felt so much more than just home. It had felt like belonging, like his soul had finally found its missing half; a place to rest. It was cheesy, sure, but that didn’t make it untrue. 

Steve gave an involuntary thrust of his hips, biting his lips against the thought. He found himself drowning in the image of Bucky pressed into his space, skin pressed against his and exuding a want and need that would flare Steve’s nose. One that would make him push Bucky into the nearest object just to get closer, to chase that pleasure as far as they both were willing to go, maybe even further. 

As he pressed into his own hand, squeezing almost painfully as he let himself curl onto his side, hips thrusting harder and faster, Steve remembered the moment he’d given into Bucky’s desperate pleas. He remembered the feel of Bucky under his hands, slick and practically dripping with a want Steve had only imagined. He remembered pressing his fingers against Bucky, fingers resisting the urge to push into the man and give into the instinct to take Bucky right then and there. To bite into the sweet smelling glands at the back of his neck and mate him, make him his, always his. God, what he would do to Bucky if-- 

A feeling like ice washed over him as the realization came. Bucky was gone. The flash of a train, a scream, the feeling of metal beneath his palms. Knuckles white as he resisted the urge to jump after him and follow down into that cold, frozen unknown. To follow James Buchanan Barnes, even into death. 

“Shit,” Steve swore, breathing harder as his body warred with sadness and lust, unable to stop himself from tipping over the edge yet incapable of waving away the icy grief pulling at his heart. “Goddamnit,” he groaned, willing his hips to move faster, his hand to holder tighter. To get himself through this goddamn rut before he could crash into the loneliness he’d nearly forgotten, the emptiness he felt at his side and the tears pushing at the corner of his eyes. 

He felt himself cry as his knot finally began to inflate, almost painful in the open air. His hand was too stiff, too rough, to be pleasurable. But Steve pushed through, urging himself to enjoy it and pretend that he wasn’t seventy years in the future. That he wasn’t alone, that Bucky wasn’t gone forever.... 

_Dead_, his mind supplied unhelpfully and Steve closed his eyes, unwilling to stop and wipe at his blurring vision. Instead he turned his face into his pillow, muffling the hesitant, choked sobs that escaped him as he worked himself faster, distracting him through the pain of his knot. God, he really hoped Tony’s robot wasn’t listening to him right now. 

When Steve came, it was with a cry, but not of pleasure. He tried to keep himself from weeping into his pillow, but it was almost too close to call. He was falling into this numbness of pleasure and grief and he hated it, but it also relieved him somehow, made him feel a little better. The feel of cum on his hand, on the sheets, rubbing over his cock as he continued to stroke himself. The need to keep thrusting, to keep coming almost overwhelming. He couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t stop wanting it, but the thought of Bucky kept him from enjoying it. His own climax felt almost like a trial, something to get over with as soon as possible. He hated that feeling, but he couldn’t deny it. 

Steve spent the rest of the night alone, and hated himself all the more for it. 

After that night, Steve talked to Bruce. He asked about alpha suppressants, about medical advancements since the 40s and how he might need to take into account his super soldier biology. Bruce was more than happy to ramble on, but couldn't hide his concern as Steve continued to ask about studies on overdosing of suppressants and about doctors who might be willing to work with his desire to push the boundaries of his biology. 

At one point Bruce did sigh, removing his glasses to rub at the bridge of his nose. “Steve, I know it’s none of my business, but it really isn’t healthy to suppress a rut for more than a few months, half a year at best.” Steve knew he should be angry at the warning, but it was hard to get angry at the Beta, his calming scent more than enough to cut through any tension in a room. “I know I’m just a Beta, but I’ve seen it happen. It’s almost impossible without some serious side effects.” 

Steve knew Bruce was just being thoughtful, kind even when confronted with warring morals from a practical stranger no less. So he replied, “It’s okay. I won’t push myself where I’m not comfortable. I just...” He didn’t know how to describe how much he needed this. How desperately he wanted to forget his instincts and the dreams he’d idolized so many years ago. It hurt him deeper than anyone could know, but reminders of what he couldn’t have, of the family and white picket fence life that had been ripped from him, was too much to bear. At least with the Avengers, he could shoulder a new purpose and focus on something else beside his own wants and needs. It wasn’t exactly healthy, but it was his only option currently and it was better than nothing. 

“Okay,” Bruce said after a moment, eyes searching Steve’s face so astutely he was sure he could read exactly what was on Steve’s mind. “Okay, yeah, I understand. I’ll do what I can, see who can help. But if it gets too dangerous, promise me you’ll stop?” 

Steve tried not to hesitate too long as he swallowed back the truth. “Of course,” he lied, but felt no guilt at the words. If anything, he felt relieved. 

Living with the Avengers was living every day with the knowledge that you would always be confronted with the unexpected, even when you thought you were expecting it. It was a strange way to live yet it became familiar. Easy to fall in line with. Go with the flow. 

Yet it all came crashing down when the Winter Soldier barged into his life, rifle aimed too close for comfort. 

_Bucky was alive_. 

“Earth to Cap.” 

Steve looked up at the nickname, staring hard at Tony. He was back at the tower, seated while the other Avengers seemed to loom around him. 

“Please,” Tony continued, an annoyed look on his face. “Share with the class what the hell is going on inside that pretty little head of yours. We would love to know.” 

“Tony,” Bruce warned, but Steve waved him away. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” he admitted, looking around the room before focusing back on Tony. “But Shield was compromised and I didn’t know who to trust.” 

“So you let three helicarriers crash into the Potomac and allowed a brainwashed assassin to get away? And you didn’t think to tell any of us?” Tony’s words were pointed and clipped. Steve felt his annoyance morph into frustration. 

“What was I supposed to say, Tony? What would any of you have been able to do?” 

“We could have helped,” Tony said flatly, hands on his hips now. “We could have stopped Barnes from escaping. He’s a dangerous assassin on the loose and---” 

Something snapped in Steve with the way Tony said Bucky’s name. “He’s not dangerous. He saved me.” 

Tony scoffed, disbelieving. “After bloodying you up enough to leave you hospitalized. You’re a goddamn super soldier and you were in intensive care for five days. That doesn’t seem dangerous to you?” 

Steve bit back his words, forcing himself to stay calm. “He’s my friend, Tony.” 

Tony threw up his hands, and made eye contact with Natasha. She was understandably silent, pressed close to Clint as she raised a hand reflexively to her own shoulder. The wound had scarred. 

“Oh, well that explains it. If the brainwashed assassin is a friend then there’s no danger, right? God, Steve, do you hear yourself?” Steve didn’t answer, and Tony continued. “I’ve already got people on the lookout for Barnes. If we find him, we’re bringing him in. We can’t risk it. He’s too danger--” 

“He’s not dangerous.” Steve knew he was exuding a dangerous scent now, no longer trying to control the anger ebbing through him. He was feeling more and more defensive as Tony spoke, and it was an instinct he hadn’t succumbed to in a long time, had no reason to. But Bucky was _alive_. 

Tony visibly stuttered, looking incredulous. “God, Steve, what is wrong with you? I get you and Barnes have history, but even I didn’t know you could be so incredibly--” 

“He was my mate.” The words weren’t supposed to be as booming as he spoke them. He hadn’t meant to cause Natasha’s eyes to jump to him in concern or Bruce to take a step forward. Even Thor looked caught off guard. “Was supposed to be. We were....After the war we were going to...” The words stuck in Steve’s throat, an uncontrollable emotion overwhelming him. He stood then, looking only at Tony. “He is my friend, Tony. But more than that he is mine, and I will not allow you or anyone else to hurt him. Is that clear?” 

Instead of backing down, Tony seemed to take that as a challenge, stepping closer to Steve. His words were quieter now, but no less firm. “Can we trust your word on that? Do you even know if he’s still in there? Christ, Steve, what do you even think you’re going to be able to do? Fuck the years of brainwashing out of him? But that really wouldn’t be worth the effort, seeing as you two aren’t even mated--”

Steve couldn’t stop himself from crowding Tony, staring down at him with such fury he could barely restrain himself from grabbing the other man by the shirt front. 

“He’s worth everything. He’s worth burning down a whole goddamn city if it means keeping him safe, so I need you to get out of my face before I make you.” 

The room was eerily quiet now, and Steve hadn’t realized how much he’d been exuding alpha dominance until he noticed Tony visibly shrink, eyes suddenly dilated and lost. Natasha had a hand on Clint, soothing, and even Thor was smirking from his position in the corner. 

“I have to go. I told Sam I’d meet up with him.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but Steve didn’t care if the others saw through it. Right now needed to be alone, just for a moment. 

He left before anyone could stop him. 

_Bucky is alive_. 

Sam said he found him in an apartment in Romania. Something small and sparsely furnished yet Sam said it had a personal touch to it with some mismatched utensils and carefully placed trinkets on makeshift shelves. There had even been a notebook, pages of notes hurriedly taken. He hadn’t given the details, but Steve didn’t have to ask to know that his name was in there, somewhere. 

Natasha was waiting for him. He’d been expecting that. What he hadn’t been expecting was Tony at her side, arms crossed. 

“Natasha. Stark,” Steve greeted. 

“He’s talking to Bruce,” Natasha stepped in, not needing a cue. “We thought it was best, considering Bucky can’t hurt him. He’s also the only Beta in the tower.” 

Steve took a step toward the door, but Tony reached out a hand to stop him. An honest to god growl crawled up Steve’s throat. 

Tony just looked tired. “Sit, boy. I’m not trying to stop you. I just want... I wanted to apologize. For everything.” He closed his eyes, and Steve wondered if Tony had been there when Bucky had first entered the tower. “He’s been through a lot. I didn’t realize...” 

Steve’s anger still flared, but he kept it inside. He settled for a simple “thank you,” not sure that he was ready to let his anger go entirely, but it seemed to appease Tony. 

The door opened with a hiss. 

Steve’s whole body shuddered when he caught sight of Bucky. He was seated on a medical table, hands curled tightly over the edge and head down. He was wearing a baseball cap and his hair lay loose around his face. His Hydra uniform had been replaced by tattered jeans and an overly large hoodie that made him look so haunted and fragile that Steve had to stop himself from swooping in to cradle him in his arms and exude safety and calm until Bucky could breath easy and relax against him. 

Bucky looked up, gaze flickering over Steve for only a moment. The barest hint of recognition. 

Bruce turned, giving Steve a look that said everything was okay. Reassuring. “And Steve Rogers. Do you know who he is?” 

The question felt like ice over Steve’s skin, leaving him raw and exposed. Bucky’s reply didn’t hurt any less. 

“He was my mission.” 

The words hit Steve harder than he thought they would and turned away, eyes closed. He couldn’t take them personally. It wasn’t Bucky’s fault. None of this was their fault. 

And yet. 

Bruce wrote something down on his tablet, looking over Bucky a moment. “Is that all, James?” 

The name seemed foreign on Bruce’s tongue, but Bucky didn’t deny it. Didn’t fight the familiarity, the history. There was a pause and Bucky ducked his head, voice low. 

“I knew him.” 

To Steve, those words were more than enough. 

Bucky had been set up in a room on one of the lower floors. Tony had assured them all that Jarvis was on call 24/7 and monitoring vigilantly. Bruce made daily visits to him, checking in on his physical and mental health. Steve tried his best not to linger, to push Bucky too soon. But he was so drawn to him, aching for him even after being separated for all these years. It was so hard to stay away yet he made himself anyway. 

He stumbled upon Bruce in the tower kitchen one afternoon, tapping idly away at a tablet while he absentmindedly grabbed for the sandwich on his plate. He had a look of concentration on his face, like something was bothering him. 

“Something on your mind?” Steve prodded, smiling as Bruce looked up with the sandwich still in his mouth. 

“Oh,” he said around whole wheat, chewing quickly before swallowing with a cough. “I was just going over some test results. You know, your super soldier serum interacts so strangely with your genetic code that it creates this... intensifying effect on one’s secondary gender.” 

Steve tried not to let his smile falter. “You’re talking about Bucky.” 

Bruce paused a moment, removing his glasses. He rubbed at his eyes. “Yeah. He’s been having sharp pains in his lower abdomen and reproductive area. My theory is that whatever Hydra was pumping him with contained an abnormal amount of suppressants which caused some heavy damage. A way to keep him compliant, at best. At worst...” 

Steve did his best not the grab the island edge too tightly. “Is he going to be alright?” 

“Technically speaking, yes.” Bruce seemed lost in thought, before scrolling through something on the tablet. “Other than his reproductive system, everything is healthy and normal. But it seems he wasn’t able to properly go through his heats, resulting in some prolonged physical damage.” He gave Steve a pointed look. 

“I go through my rut properly, Bruce.” 

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Your definition of properly and mine are very different.” Steve raised a brow, but Bruce continued. “Look, I don’t mean to pry, but about what you said before... about you and him. You said you were unmated?” 

Steve felt himself tense, but tried to keep his expression neutral. “Yes. Why?” 

Bruce sighed, looking a bit sad. “I think that’s why they picked him for their experiments. If he had been mated the chance of him dying under that amount of stress, without his Alpha, would be too high to risk. The burden would have been too great.” 

Was Bruce trying to console him? To let him know, in some twisted way, that if he and Bucky had mated before the war, Bucky would be--- 

“Steve?” 

Steve met Bruce’s eyes momentarily, hating how knowing they were. “I keep telling myself I don’t have any regrets.” Steve gave a small, deprecating laugh, shaking his head. “But how I am I supposed to move forward when he looks at me like--” 

Bruce seemed to understand without him saying, exuding a rather soothing scent that reminded him of the vanilla his mother would use for baking. “You should talk to him. He’s lucid most days, and I think he remembers more than he lets on.” 

Steve felt something like hope well up inside him for the first time in a very long time. He took in a deep breath, and then let it out. 

“Okay.” 

He tried to give himself time and wait for the right moment. Yet the overwhelming urge to be at Bucky’s side, to keep him in view and be able to touch him, to make sure that he was real, that he was staying, was something Steve couldn’t fight, at least not all at once. 

He gave himself twenty four hours before knocking on the door. It didn’t open immediately, but Steve waited. He’d wait forever if he had to, and the thought scared him a bit. But then the metal was sliding open and Bucky’s back was to him, walking away. Steve wanted to reach out, but thought better of it. 

Steve stepped into the room, door closing silently behind him, and waited. He didn’t want Bucky to feel like he was invading his space, overwhelming him. He could do small steps, baby steps if needed. He just needed to know they were steps toward... something, anything. 

“Bruce mentioned you.” 

Bucky spoke the words with his back still turned to him, and Steve cleared his throat awkwardly. 

“Sorry.” He wasn’t sure what exactly he was apologizing for and Bucky seemed to take notice. 

“Why?” The question was a loaded one, and Bucky turned when he said it. He eyes seemed clearer than Steve had ever seen, an expression on his face that was no longer fear or confusion. It was calmer, steadier. A kind of resignation, maybe. 

“I--” Steve started, but then laughed, running a hand through his hair. The answer to that question seemed limitless. “I honestly don’t know. It just, uh, feels like the right thing to do?” He let Bucky study him a few moments longer before continuing. “Do you remember me?” 

The words made Bucky’s gaze move away and across the room. “I read about you in a museum.” 

Steve felt his chest ache, but he pushed forward wanting, needing more. “Is that all?” 

Silence fell heavy between them until Bucky seemed able to conjure up a reply. “Your mother’s name was Sarah. You knew my family. We were... friends.” The word faded from his lips as he said it, as if unsure, and Steve hated it. 

“Friends,” he repeated, trying not to show his disappointment. “Yes, we were friends.” _And lovers. Almost mates_, he didn’t say, and closed his eyes. Now wasn’t the time to push Bucky, to scare him away. Friends was enough. Friends he could work with. 

Bucky was closer now, only a few steps away. His eyes seemed to roam over Steve, curious and searching, but his body was tense, muscles coiled and ready to strike. 

“Buck?” 

Bucky’s eyes flickered up, startled, and Steve wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. 

“Your smell,” was all he said, eventually. He then raised his head, nose twitching. “It’s familiar.” 

Steve took a hesitant step back. “Well, we did grow up together--” 

“No,” Bucky interrupted. He took a step forward and then another, practically crowding Steve against the door. “It’s more than that. I felt it before. At the river. It smelled....safe. Comfortable. It smelled like--” 

“Home?” Steve offered, feeling his heart practically leap in his chest. He hadn’t meant to say it, it just kind of... came out. 

Bucky’s gaze faltered, body language shifting back from inquisitive to defensive, and Steve cursed himself for being so bold. 

“I read about us in a museum,” Bucky continued, voice sounding a bit lost. “I read about myself in the news. I remember... things, moments, occasionally. But when it comes to you I--” He stopped and his expression grew resolved, determined. “Even when you’re not around, whenever Bruce just mentions your name or I read it in one of the files, I feel this need to find you, to be near you, to touch you, and I don’t understand it. It’s overwhelming sometimes, and I--” 

Bucky’s words trailed off as if he hadn’t been able to think that far ahead, to conjure up enough evidence to make a conclusion. Steve couldn’t resist himself anymore, couldn’t let Bucky just stand there and look so lost in front of him, because of him. So he reached out a hand, slowly so as not to frighten, and moved it gently over Bucky’s face, tucking a few strands of hair behind his ear. It was an intimate gesture, but something Steve had done countless times before. Bucky’s hair had been shorter then, but it hadn’t stopped him, fingers grazing over the tip of his ear. 

Bucky closed his eyes at the touch, body seeming to relax, and Steve could smell the immediate approval and acceptance Bucky radiated. The easy scent of crisp lavender overwhelming his senses. 

He blamed it for the lapse in judgement when he let Bucky lean in close, nose practically pressed against his neck. Bucky breathed in deep, savoring, and whatever he found in Steve’s scent made him begin goddamn purring into his skin. Steve made a pleased noise back, eyes closing at the contact. 

When he felt one of Bucky’s hands move up under his shirt, mouth now open and nipping at Steve’s neck, he sucked in a sharp breath and raised shaky hands to Bucky’s shoulders, pushing him away. 

Bucky’s face was obviously annoyed, and Steve had the audacity to find it charming. “Wait,” he said, taking a moment to steady himself. This was happening too fast. If they kept going, Steve knew it would be so hard to stop himself and he didn’t want to scare Bucky, didn’t want to push him away after so long. 

Bucky only stared at him, unmoving from where Steve had placed him. When Steve’s hands fell from his shoulders he seemed to watch them, a longingness to his gaze. “What were we?” 

The question was innocent enough, but Steve had never felt so absolutely shaken to his core at the words. He let out a shaky, nervous laugh, and shook his head, resisting the urge to cry. “Friends. Really good friends.” The words felt wrong on his tongue, like sand, coarse and suffocating. “I have to go.” 

Bucky didn’t try to stop him. Steve stumbled out the door as quickly as he could, ignoring the overwhelming smell of Bucky he couldn’t shake, the desire, want, need that it conjured within him. God, he wanted to pull Bucky close to him and press him up against the wall. He wanted to breath him in, drag his teeth against skin until he found the other’s nape, give in to the urge to open his mouth wide and just fucking bite... 

Steve hadn’t meant to hit something, but he couldn’t stop himself from slamming his fist into the nearest wall. He was a decent ways away from Bucky’s room, so at least no one would come running. He felt only a small ache in his hand when he pulled away, no blood. The decent sized hole in the concrete wall was a bit unsettling, and he wondered if he could find a way to fix it without letting Tony know. 

He’d never let him live it down otherwise. 

Steve kept his distance from Bucky after that, and Bucky seemed to respect his decision. He was interacting with the rest of the team more, popping up in the common rooms or kitchen occasionally. He stayed at Bruce’s side most days, a familiarity there that seemed to help. Bruce had got him to start talking to Sam, too. It made sense, seeing as how Sam’s civilian job was helping ex-soldiers deal with their past and trauma. Natasha and Clint seemed to take to him easily too, and Steve wondered if it came with being spies and ex-assassins. He figured one eventually got used to anything in that kind of life. He couldn’t say if he was becoming much different. 

Steve did his best to occupy himself with Avengers work. His most recent cause was attempting to convince the UN that the Avengers were worth more as an independent coalition that a government sanctioned one. Tony was a bit hesitant on the offer, always the businessman and juggling both sides, but Steve remained steadfast in his decision. Most of the team seemed to agree. 

It was on nights when he’d been unable to sleep, reading over bills and official documents on one of the Tower’s many couches, that he also seemed to find himself running into Bucky. He guessed Bucky didn’t sleep much, not that he could blame him. It took everything for Steve not to offer to go back to his room with him, to hold Bucky close as they lay together, just like they had back in their apartment. Safe and warm and loved. 

“Can’t sleep?” Steve asked one of those nights, unable to ignore Bucky’s lingering presence anymore. Whenever he entered the common area Bucky would usually linger in the open kitchen, grabbing a glass for water or maybe milk. Steve found it varied. 

“It’s quiet,” Bucky answered, glass in hand. He turned on the sink, breaking the silence of the late evening. He made his way to Steve then, eyes looking over the varying paperwork. “Bruce says you work too much.” 

Steve wanted to laugh at the bluntness, able to practically hear the Beta’s chiding tone. “Bad habit. Don’t worry about it.” 

Bucky took a sip from his glass, eyes still on the low coffee table. The brightest light in the room came from the lamp at the end of the couch. It didn’t make for good reading, but Steve had better eyesight than most. “The beds. Too soft?” 

Steve stopped pretending to read what he was holding. “What?” 

Bucky shrugged, finally meeting Steve’s gaze with just a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “You always preferred sleeping on the floor, even when my mom insisted you take the couch.” 

Steve was a bit speechless, not expecting, well, that. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I did.” He cleared his throat a moment, then began collecting his various documents into piles. “Well, uh, I think it’s time for me to call it a day, yeah? You should try to get some sleep, too.” 

Bucky always looked pained when Steve cut their conversations short like that, or made excuses to not be alone with him for more than a few minutes. He knew it wasn’t being fair to Bucky, but he didn’t know how else to keep himself in line. Bucky had years missing from his memories, Steve-sized gaps making up the majority. 

“Yeah,” Bucky said eventually, staring at his glass. He left then, and Steve didn’t stop him. 

It was hard sharing Bucky with the team. He seemed to get along with almost everyone, and Steve knew he shouldn’t have been surprised. Bucky had always been a schmoozer, a socialite at the worst times. Except when Steve was involved. Then you might as well be talking to a wall. Small moments like that had always made Steve feel better. 

Tony even teased him about it one day, when he’d asked Bucky to spend some time in his lab with him so Tony could take a look at his arm. He was in talks with Bruce about some updates, changing up some of the wiring so movement could be less painful. Apparently, a majority of Bucky’s nerve endings were connected to the arm and, according to Tony, “cranked up to 100” in regards to sensitivity. 

“You can quit glaring at me, Rogers. I won’t do anything untoward to your boyfriend.” Tony seemed to enjoy throwing that word around. Especially since it always made Steve go a little red. 

“I didn’t--” Steve tried to argue, but Bucky was looking at him, amused and slightly smug, and all thoughts left his mind immediately. “I’m gonna go to the gym. I’ll be back for lunch.” 

Steve knew he was running away when he left, but he needed to breath. To get some air and rid himself of all these pent up things he was feeling. Before, he hadn’t much cared when his rut would show up. It was just another thing to cross off his chore list. Now, he feared it. Worried that the right look from Bucky would send him spiraling. 

The walk to his room was short, and he changed into something casual before grabbing his gym bag. When he opened his door to leave, he was honestly surprised to find Bucky waiting for him. 

“Hey,” he greeted, a pleasant expression on his face. He smirked when Steve only nodded in reply. “Cat got your tongue?” 

Steve looked up and down the hallway. “You could say that. What’s wrong?” 

Bucky’s smirk turned into a frown, eyebrows drawn. “Why do you assume something’s wrong?” 

Steve shrugged, pulling at the strap of his gym bag absently. “Bad habit. Was there something you wanted to talk about or--” 

Steve was cut off by Bucky walking towards him, practically backing him into his own room. When the door closed behind them Steve felt himself stiffen, suddenly very aware of Bucky in his room. 

“Buck, what--” 

“Why do you keep doing that?” The words were immediate, a bit harsh, and Steve reeled back. 

“Doing what?” 

Bucky seemed annoyed at his confusion. “Keeping your distance from me. Tony isn’t the only one who’s noticed.” 

Steve felt his face grow warm, but he couldn’t say he was entirely unaware either. He knew what he was doing, but he’d just hoped everyone knew well enough to let him be. “Buck--” 

Bucky raised a hand, cutting him off. “I know I’m forgetting a lot. And I get that that’s hard for you. But you realize it’s also hard for me, too, right? I mean, you have all these memories of me, all this past that I can only get fragments of on a good day. And then you go and do things that make me question everything, and I just don’t know what to do anymore.” 

Bucky looked a bit desperate as he continued, annoyance morphing into confusion and hurt. 

“Christ, Steve, every time we’re in the same room together I can practically feel your need in the air. You want me so bad, and I know it’s not just because I still have a hard time controlling my scent. I asked Bruce, and he said I might be more susceptible to Alpha pheromones but, god, not like this. And the fucked up thing is, I want it to. It feels so easy to answer you, to lean into your space. To always be looking out for you.” He took a breath, deep and slow. “I remembered something the other day. “ 

Steve felt his entire world shudder to a stop. 

Bucky closed his eyes, as if recalling the memory. “It was during the war. We were in your tent. You were laughing, I think at something I said, and then you were touching me, hands ghosting over my face and neck, down my back and--” He stopped, opening his eyes to meet Steve’s frozen gaze. “You kissed me. It wasn’t something quick or spontaneous, and I wasn’t mad. It had felt so good to kiss you, like the thought to not kiss you had never crossed my mind. “ 

Steve took the following pause to look away, ashamed. Bucky stepped forward, now close enough to touch. 

“I don’t know why you’re hiding it from me,” Bucky confessed, and Steve noticed his eyes looked desperate, almost watery from this close. _He looks like he’s going to cry_. “I don’t understand why you’re trying to lie about whatever this thing is between us, whatever we were before, but I’m getting really fucking tired of it.” 

Oh, Steve thought, hating himself for the thrill that rushed up his back at the sound of Bucky swearing, angry. _Now is not the fucking time, Rogers_. 

Bucky seemed to notice his trailing thoughts so he reached out a hand and pressed it against Steve’s shirt, curling gently. “Please, Steve, just stop lying to me, okay? Whatever it is, I won’t run away. I don’t think I could even if I wanted to.” 

The admission was vulnerable and full of such need, Steve couldn’t do anything but give in, surrender. 

“I’m in love with you, Buck,” he said, slow and pointed, eyes watching Bucky carefully as he waited for any sign of discomfort or fear. “And you used to be in love with me, too. Then I lost you, lost a part of myself, and I’m so scared of losing you again. That’s why I don’t want to admit to whatever you’re feeling for me now because I don’t want you to think you’re obligated to reciprocate. I don’t want you to feel like you need to do anything you don’t want. The world has changed. We’ve changed. And I’m okay with that. But that doesn’t mean I’ll leave you. I’ll always be by your side, Buck. And I’ll always be your friend. I... I need you to know that.” 

Bucky seemed more relieved than Steve had expected and let his hand drop away, shaking his head. “That’s what you’ve been worried about? God, I thought that because—I thought that maybe you just didn’t want...” He cut himself off, as if unable to say the words. 

Steve grabbed his fallen hand and pulled it close, fingers curling around it possessively. “I’ll always want you, Buck. Always. I just wasn’t sure if you would feel the same.” He didn’t stop himself from exuding that want, letting Bucky feel just how much Steve wanted him, needed him, even now. 

Steve could feel Bucky shake at the sensation, a small gasp of breath as his eyes found Steve, pupils now dilated and glazed. “Shit,” Steve swore, but didn’t stop himself from leaning in to press his face into Bucky’s shoulder, breathing in the familiar, earthy smell. God, he’d missed that smell. 

Bucky made a small, desperate noise as Steve’s mouth brushed over his neck when he turned his head, and Steve lifted himself slowly, stopping only a breath away from Bucky’s mouth. 

“Steve,” Bucky said, almost pleaded, and Steve was unable to resist. 

When he kissed Bucky, it was like all the years between them had disappeared. Like it was just the two of them back in their apartment in Brooklyn, unhurried and enraptured in each other’s presence. Bucky actually groaned into his mouth, and Steve reached his hands up to cradle Bucky’s face, fingers running through his hair, possessive. Bucky pressed his hands against Steve’s chest before running them down over his stomach, over his sides, just enjoying the ability to touch, and Steve couldn’t stop himself from leading him back into the nearest wall. 

Bucky’s hands found their way under Steve’s shirt, and the touch of cool metal made Steve shiver at the touch. 

“Sorry,” Bucky muttered, retracting the hand, but Steve pulled it back. 

“Don’t,” Steve said, bringing Bucky’s hand up to his mouth and placing a gentle kiss to its palm, then down over the wrist. “I want you, Buck. All of you.” 

Bucky pulled Steve hard against him before hooking a leg around his knee, grinding their hips together, needy. He pulled Steve into another kiss before he could argue, no longer hiding the noises that started at the back of his throat, igniting the livewire strung between them. 

Steve thought he might go into a rut right then and there if they didn’t stop, and the thought sobered him enough to pull back, hesitating just long enough to catch Bucky’s attention. 

“What’s wrong?” God, Bucky’s eyes were so full of desire and want, a need that practically thrummed under his skin, signaling to Steve that he needed to do something right now-- 

“Fuck,” Steve swore, letting his head hang as he pressed a steadying hand over Bucky’s shoulder, gripping the wall. This was crazy. They were crazy. They couldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be-- 

“Hey,” Bucky said, voice clipped and stern, and Steve couldn’t help but look up, so desperate for anything Bucky had to say. God, he was pathetic. “Want to know something else I remembered? How much you like to overthink things.” He ran a soothing hand over Steve’s neck, thumb rubbing over his jaw, cradling him. “I want this as much as you do. So stop torturing yourself like this. It’s okay. We’re okay.” 

Steve felt all of the air punched out of him at the words, a bit overwhelmed and in awe at how easily they had fallen back into these slots. How easy it had been to give in-- 

“I need to go to the gym.” 

It hadn’t been what he’d meant to say. That had been more along the lines of getting Bucky into his bed as soon as possible. But the reminder of where they were, who they were, what year they were in, was suddenly pressing down on him. Yes, their feelings may have remained, but the world was different. Mating was different. Did Bucky know? Was it unfair of Steve if he didn’t? God, he had been so sure of himself before the war, so sure of the two of them, but now it was all different. Everything was suddenly so very different. “The team will be waiting for me later, and I--” 

Bucky didn’t let him finish, removing his hands so Steve could take a step back, sort himself out. “Okay,” he said after a moment, and Steve could practically see his mind running with questions, an unsureness to himself that Steve wanted to correct but didn’t know how. “Okay.” 

Steve grabbed his face to press another gentle kiss to his lips before smiling. “We’ll talk later. I promise. Just give me some time?” 

Bucky’s expression had gone passive, a neutrality that conveyed very little of what he was feeling. Steve could feel him slipping away, but he knew it was for the best. They needed to think this through. They couldn’t rush it, not now. They’d waited too long. 

Bucky only nodded before Steve walked away. 

Steve knew it would be easy to let Bucky back into his space. It was a decades-old familiarity that came as easy as breathing. What he hadn’t been expecting was how hard it would be to get used to all the staring. 

Acts of affection between unmated pairs wasn’t discouraged anymore, and Bucky seemed to be taking full advantage of that. Perhaps it was his own suppressed hormones, years of emotional and hormonal backlog spilling over whenever he was around Steve. Maybe it was simply because it was something familiar for him to lean onto, a crutch he hadn’t been able to use before. More likely, Bucky just enjoyed watching him fumble around the team whenever he called him “Stevie” or the way he would jump when Bucky ghosted a hand across his neck, fingers playful and warm. 

The team teased him endlessly for it, especially Tony and Natasha. They seemed to be playing some unspoken game where they tried to trick Bucky into acting on his affectionate impulses more than he already did. For an Omega, Bucky had a bit of a possessive streak. But it was nothing compared to Steve’s. He hated himself for it, but he couldn’t help himself. 

Steve started taking Bucky out for dinner. Or lunch. Sometimes for a cup of coffee from one of his favorite cafes. The two of them would disappear on more than one occasion, wandering around New York. They catalogued places and things they remembered and marveled at the new. Steve hadn’t realized he’d never really explored much of the city before Bucky came along. Before, it had only made him feel alone, a man out of time all over again. With Bucky, it was like opening a new chapter, of molding the new with the old so seamlessly he could blink and miss. It was that easy. 

Steve also realized he now had money to spare. He hadn’t thought much of it before, waving away Tony’s offers to buy new clothes or lavish tech on the Avengers credit card. He’d collected a bit of back pay as well, seeing as how he’d been technically collecting interest on his meager savings from the 40s. He’d never known what to spend it on, seeing as how everything he ever needed would just appear before he even knew he needed it. 

But now he wanted to spend it on everything and anything he thought Bucky might like. He’d never been able to buy Bucky gifts before, and the two of them hadn’t complained. Life was hard, the war had made it worse, and having a place of their own had been more than enough. But now when they were out and Bucky would stop to touch a shirt or marvel at the bright colors of a movie poster, Steve couldn’t stop himself from reaching for his wallet. 

“You’re going to spoil him if you keep doing this,” Natasha had quipped as she watched Steve hand two twenty dollar bills to the cashier. Sam had recommended a show to Bucky to catch up on pop culture, and when Bucky had laughed the whole time, smiling so bright, Steve couldn’t stop himself from going out to buy the whole damn box set. 

“I am not,” Steve replied, flashing a smile as the cashier handed him his change. “He’s my friend, and I want to buy him a gift. I buy you and Sam gifts, too.” 

Natasha bit back a smile. “Yes, and we are very appreciative. However, I don’t think Barnes has worn the same shirt in over two weeks.” 

Steve averted his gaze, feeling stubborn. “He deserves nice things, Nat.” 

“I’m not saying he doesn’t.” She took a moment to pull him out of the way of a bustling parent as their child ran toward the nearest store. Malls were always an obstacle course for Steve. “I’m just wondering when you’re going to stop buying him things and just admit that you want to fuck him until he has your babies.” 

Steve full body stuttered, mouth open and eyes wide, as Natasha veered him from crashing into an oncoming couple. “Natasha--” 

“Oh, don’t Natasha me. You know I’m right.” She squeezed his arm a bit as she smiled, adding in a gentle wink. “It’s practically broadcasted across both your faces anytime you’re in the same room. So why haven’t you asked him yet?” 

Steve took a long moment to answer. “It’s complicated.” 

Natasha gave a small laugh. “It always is. Don’t run away from this, Steve. You both deserve a win.” 

Steve gave a small smile back. “Yeah,” he said, mind already trailing. Was it that simple? Had it ever really been that simple? Could it be? “I suppose we do.” 

Steve could get used to this again: Bucky sitting in his lap, leaning over him with that look in his eyes that told him there was nowhere else he wanted to be; that there was no one else he wanted in that moment than Steve. 

“God, you’re beautiful,” Steve breathed, unable to stop himself. Bucky just smiled back, hands pressed against the sides of his neck. He leaned down to kiss Steve, quick and light. 

“The feeling’s mutual,” he replied, lifting one hand to move through Steve’s hair. “Hey, did I tell you about that time at Coney Island--” 

“With the hot dogs? Yeah, you did.” Steve moved his hands down Bucky’s back, hands gripping his ass. “But you can always tell me again.” Bucky had been remembering more and more recently, and Steve was never able to stop himself from listening to him describe with such happiness all of the things Steve himself remembered fondly. 

“Punk,” Bucky huffed and pressed himself into Steve, exuding so much love and warmth Steve thought he’d never be able to leave. 

Steve tipped his face up and Bucky obliged, kissing him much longer this time. His hands kept Bucky close as he nipped at his lips, tongue sliding over them. Bucky was practically purring in his lap, and Steve chased the feeling. 

He abandoned Bucky’s mouth to press against his neck, breathing in his scent. He bit against the soft skin as he went, eliciting small gasps of approval each time he did. Both of Bucky’s hands were in his hair now, pulling hard as he ground himself into Steve’s lap. 

“Christ, Stevie,” Bucky groaned, throwing his head back as Steve bit particularly hard. A shudder wracked his body and Steve let his hands move under Bucky’s shirt. Bucky yanked Steve back by the hair only to kiss him again, open mouthed and panting, twitching beneath Steve’s roaming hands. 

Steve hadn’t realized Bucky’s hands had begun roaming too until he felt one press firmly against his cock, kneading. “Bucky,” he said, a bit breathless as he pulled himself away, his own hands stuttering to a stop. “We can’t--” 

Bucky only pushed his hand against Steve more, the other reaching to move Steve’s own hand back against his ass. “Why not?” He let out a contented sigh as he moved Steve’s hand down farther, beneath him, and Steve felt himself twitch against Bucky’s hand. “Fuck, Steve. Give me one good reason--” 

Steve removed his hand, and Bucky leveled him with a look. “I don’t want to rush this,” he answered eventually, unable to hold Bucky’s gaze as guilt settled in his gut. “I just got you back, and I don’t want to... I can’t...” 

Bucky didn’t push him, but Steve could see him deflate a bit. “I know you’re worried about me, but I want this. I really, really do. The war’s over. We can just be us for once. No more rules. No more overthinking.” Bucky leaned forward, placing his forehead tenderly against Steve’s. “And I don’t want you to think you need to hold back because of me. I know you’ve been talking to Bruce, and my chances of reproduction are low, but--” 

“What?” Steve sat up a bit straighter, concern evident in his face. Bucky pulled his head back. “Wait, is that what you think this is about? Your ability to have kids?” 

The words made Bucky flinch, and he ducked his head, eyes down. “Isn’t it? I mean, what else could it be? I want you, and you still want me. You’ve been practically courting me these past few weeks with all the gifts you bought me, don’t think I haven’t noticed, and the world isn’t like it was before. We don’t even have to be mated to—” 

“You don’t want to be mated?” The words hurt Steve even as he said them. 

Bucky’s expression shifted quickly to annoyance. “Christ, of course I do. It’s all I can think about. But I wasn’t sure if you... if you still wanted to. Considering… well, everything.” 

Steve could only stare at Bucky, mind still reeling. When he collected himself enough, Steve let out a sigh and placed a gentle hand under Bucky’s chin, turning his face to look at him. “I still want everything with you. Your love, your mate bond, kids. There’s nothing you could offer that I wouldn’t want with my whole being, Buck. But I could never love you any less if you couldn’t give me any of that. You’re all I want. If I have you, nothing else really matters.” He leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to Bucky’s cheek, exuding as much warmth and love as he could muster. 

Bucky let out a shaky breath, eyes closed. “Me too. The mate bond, I mean. I do want that. And the family thing. God, kids would be nice, but I don’t know…” 

“Hey,” Steve whispered, waiting for Bucky to open his eyes. “It’s okay. As long as we’re together, I’m happy. Alright?” 

Bucky let a faint smile creep over his face. “Yeah. Okay.” 

Steve kissed him again, and this time Bucky didn’t argue. 

Steve hadn’t told Bucky about the apartment. He hadn’t been keeping it from him exactly, but he also didn’t want him thinking that Steve was running away either. He’d always meant to go back to Brooklyn, back to home. It was always calling him, always a yearning he couldn’t quite calm. So when he’d got the letter of approval from the landlord he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. 

Steve knew the way to Bucky’s room without even thinking about It, second nature by now. It was only a floor below his, and Steve had made himself quite at home more than once. So when he entered the security code, door swishing in reply, Bucky didn’t even so much as raise a brow when Steve came barreling in. 

“I got it,” he said, a bit out of breath as he waved the letter he was holding, crinkling in his grip. “I got the place.” 

“Wait, you got what?” Bucky put down whatever he’d been reading, and stood from the desk pushed against the far window. Tony had installed it when he’d noticed Bucky’s penchant for staring out the large windows of the tower, content to watch the city twinkle in the starlight. 

Steve met him halfway, practically shoving the paper at him. “The apartment. In Brooklyn. I wanted to find the perfect place. Somewhere close to home, ya know? Tony told me he could just buy me a complex but I refused to put somebody out of their home just for nostalgia. So I’ve been waiting for this one place to open up, a vacancy, and it came!” He watched as Bucky read the paper, and Steve could hear Tony in the back of his mind ragging about how antiquated physical mail was. Steve liked the surprise of it though, especially in moments like this. It always felt more real than any email ever could. 

When Bucky seemed to process this, he looked up at Steve, excitement written all over his face. “That’s amazing. I’m really happy for you. Just promise you’ll let me come visit.” 

Steve’s good mood immediately stalled out. “What?” 

Bucky shrugged a shoulder, a bit muted now as he handed the paper back. “Just saying I call dibs on the couch. Tell Sam he can sleep on the floor if he really wants to—“ 

Steve reached out a hand, taking one of Bucky’s and halting his words. “Buck. Look. I wanted to talk to you about that. See, I’ve been thinking about it and even though I’ve been looking at this place for forever, I’ve been thinking about what that could mean for us. And I know we haven’t really discussed any specifics regarding it all, but I wasn’t sure if we—“ 

“Steve, breathe,” Bucky said, squeezing Steve’s hand and helping to ground him. “What did I say about overthinking? 

Steve took in a deep breath before exhaling, trying for calm. _Come on, Rogers. Focus_. “What I’m trying to say is, will you come with me? To the apartment. With me. As in—“ 

Bucky leaned forward to kiss him before he could continue, silencing any more of his rambling. When he pulled away, Bucky was smiling so wide it seemed to reach up to his eyes, glowing with such affection. “Of course I’ll move in with you, you idiot.” 

Steve let out a nervous laugh, feeling most of his anxiety instantly vanish. “Oh, good,” he said dumbly, to which Bucky only rolled his eyes. 

“Punk,” he teased before kissing Steve again, arms wrapping lazily around his neck, pulling him close. 

“Says the jerk,” Steve replied between kisses, wondering how he’d ever gotten so lucky even the second time around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. Sorry. I'm a liar. Chapter 3 won't be out until tomorrow. But it's like 90% porn so look forward to that!


	3. Future

Steve took Bucky out to dinner on their first night in the apartment. They went somewhere casual, a recommendation of Tony’s that even got Pepper’s approval. They drank expensive wine and ate until they were almost too full to move. And then they walked home, hand in hand, smiling like the idiots they probably were. Their steps were slow, but not hesitant, as they pointed out half-remembered streets or buildings that were no longer where they remembered them being. For the first time in a long time, Steve didn’t feel like a stranger in his hometown. 

When they got to the apartment, Bucky flashing one of their now matching keys in the moonlight, Steve felt like he’d come truly home. 

Entering, Steve felt his and Bucky’s scents envelop them, heavy and thick. They’d spent the last week furnishing the place, and with it came the after-affect of their own scents lingering on everything they owned. No one had come into the apartment but them since Steve had signed the papers, and the knowledge of that turned him on more than it should. 

It was actually part of the reason he didn’t argue when Bucky pulled him close for a kiss, chest pressed against his. 

“Sorry,” Bucky said immediately after, pulling away from Steve and putting a noticeable distance between them.

Steve didn’t stop him, but he did search Bucky’s face for signs of whatever was bothering him. “What’s wrong?” 

“It’s just,” Bucky began, hands gripping Steve’s arms. He sounded scared. “I’m pretty sure I started my heat yesterday.” 

Steve felt his heart drop, but his cock twitched unhelpfully. “Oh. Well, that’s great, right? I mean you and Bruce have been—“ 

“I told him we were going out tonight, so he gave me a small suppressant,” Bucky continued, pointedly looking anywhere but at Steve. “But I’m still not used to them, and I’ve been told I’m pretty terrible at controlling my scent around others.” 

No wonder Steve had been so excitable all night, his entire body thrumming like a wire but unable to explain why. He had assumed it was just because he knew he got to spend the evening with Bucky, to go back to their apartment, together. To start over. 

“Bruce wouldn’t let me take anything that lasted more than a few hours. Something about keeping me stable. I thought we might have more time but--” Bucky punctuated his words by meeting Steve’s gaze. His own eyes were already wild, dilated and hazy. “I should probably go. At least for tonight.” 

Bucky‘s hands released Steve, dropping to his sides. Defeated. 

Steve gathered them quickly, bringing them to his chest and holding tight. “Don’t go.” 

It didn’t take Bucky long to understand. “But, we… you said that—“ 

“I know,” Steve cut in, feeling a bit overwhelmed as he could feel himself falling into Bucky’s growing scent. God, he wanted to drown in it. “I know what I said. And I meant it. But I also mean it when I say that I want you, Buck. Right here, right now. In this apartment. In our home.” Bucky sucked in a breath at the word, hands shaking slightly. “Think about it. We’re finally starting over. Achieving that dream we’ve always wanted, even after 70 years apart. So why not now? Why can’t we—” 

Bucky kissed Steve before he could continue, frantic, almost missing Steve’s mouth completely. “Stop talking,” he said, voice low and rough, needy. Steve knew he couldn’t ignore that voice nor what it did to him. 

“Yes, sir,” Steve teased before shoving Bucky back against the wall to kiss him again. His hands slid over Bucky’s hips and around his back before roaming down to grab his ass. 

Bucky groaned into the touch and Steve ground against him, loving the drag of friction across his cock. God, he could barely think with Bucky’s arms thrown over his shoulders, keeping him close. 

“Pants off,” Steve said, not even trying to hide the demand in his voice. He needed to touch Bucky, to feel him against his own skin. “And turn around.” 

Bucky didn’t argue as he quickly rid himself of his clothes, stripping until his bottom half was naked. He hesitated before turning around though, and Steve knew something was off. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Bucky looked up, then back down. “I’m not sure if... I mean, I haven’t really taken the time to find out if I can still...” His voice trailed off, sounding almost scared. 

Steve reached out a hand to tilt Bucky’s chin upward, silent until their eyes locked. “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it. Together. We always do.” He smiled, hoping it might help. 

Bucky stared at him for a few long seconds before nodding slowly. “It’s just that, since I left Hydra, I’ve been slowly getting used to going through my heats again. Butt, after so long and talking to Bruce, I--” He stopped, hand reaching up to wrap around Steve’s wrist. “I’m afraid my body might disappoint us both.” 

Steve felt his heart break at the words. “Oh, Buck.” He leaned forward and kissed Bucky softly, comforting. “Nothing you do could disappoint me. I love you too much.” 

Bucky’s grip on him relaxed at the words, and Steve took the opportunity to move back into Bucky’s space, mouth moving over his neck and down to his collarbone. Pressing light kisses over what exposed skin he could find. 

“When’s the last time you touched yourself?” 

Bucky tensed, muscles going taught. His scent spiked of something dangerous, rusting and coppery. “What?” 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Steve explained, hands now working on the buttons of Bucky’s shirt. “You said you’re afraid, and I want to do whatever you need to feel comfortable.” 

Bucky watched Steve’s hands working, giving a final twist at the last button, his chest now exposed. “Not since before the fall.” 

Steve’s hands froze, unable to mask his surprise. “That long?” 

Bucky’s face turned sour, and the familiar scent of fresh rain felt even farther away from Steve. “What else did you expect? I mean, hell, ever since I pulled you out of that stupid river I haven’t been able too—I haven’t really wanted to because--” The words seemed unable to leave Bucky’s throat, frustrating him. “God, Steve, I just--” 

Steve placed his hands on either side of Bucky’s face, grounding him momentarily. “Hey. It’s okay.” He slid his hands down Bucky’s neck and across his shoulders before moving down his arms, soothing. “See?” He kept going, moving to Bucky’s exposed chest, fingers tracing lightly over his skin. A stray thumb pressed against a hard nipple and Bucky sucked in a breath, mouth opening involuntarily. Steve raised a brow, before doing it again but harder. 

“Steve,” Bucky breathed when he leaned down to kiss under his collarbone, mouth trailing down to where his hands had been. Steve moved gently over the already teased nipple, teeth catching lightly. The scent of lavender was slowly growing stronger now and the smell of copper no longer clogged his nose. 

“You like that?” Steve asked, breathe ghosting over Bucky’s skin. It earned him a small shiver. 

“Mhm,” was all Bucky said in return, free hand moving absently through Steve’s hair as his mouth continued moving across Bucky’s chest to repeat his teasing on the other exposed nipple. 

When Bucky seemed distracted enough, Steve straightened and spoke right beside his ear. “Turn around for me?” 

Bucky didn’t hesitate this time and turned to press his hands gently against the wall, bracing himself. Steve ran slow fingers down Bucky’s back, tracing his spine, before stopping at the top of his ass. Then he crouched down, pressing gentle kisses to Bucky’s cheeks before nipping playfully. 

Bucky jerked at the bite, but didn’t protest. His head hung low, waiting, and Steve didn’t have to look to know his eyes were closed. 

“Let me know if you want me to stop,” he prefaced before spreading Bucky’s ass with his hands. He took a moment to appreciate the sight, arousal spreading through him like fire, before pressing his mouth to Bucky’s hole. 

Bucky’s body lurched forward at the contact, and his head turned. “Christ, Steve. What the hell?” But his voice dropped off as Steve continued, working Bucky slow and easy. He enjoyed the feeling of his tongue rimming Bucky as he gently jerked back onto his mouth. Even better were the small noises Bucky would try to hide when Steve’s tongue pressed a little too hard, almost penetrating. 

“Can I keep going?” Steve asked after a while, hands moving back to Bucky’s hips as he stood. He leaned over Bucky, chest pressed to his back and exuding a great contentedness. . 

Bucky raised his head to the ceiling, as if trying to regain some control of himself. “If you don’t, I’ll find someone else who will.” 

Steve bit into Bucky’s shoulder at the words, just hard enough to hurt. 

“There you are,” he thought he heard Bucky breathe, and the thought of Bucky enjoying his possessiveness thrilled him to no end. 

“Here I am,” Steve replied back before pushing a finger into Bucky and enjoying the full body tremble it earned him. 

“Shit,” Bucky cursed, hands curling on the wall as his hips pulled forward, away from Steve. Steve only followed, pulling out before slowly inserting once again. “Fuck. I can’t--” 

“Get wet for me?” Steve finished, voice barely audible as he leaned even further over Bucky’s shoulder. “Because your body seems to be saying otherwise.” He pushed his finger back inside Bucky and felt the beginning of the man’s slick, his arousal in physical form. 

Some of Bucky’s stress seemed to fall away at the realization, and he turned his head to meet Steve’s for a quick, open-mouthed kiss. “I need you,” was all he said when they parted, and Steve didn’t need to be asked twice. 

“I know,” he said before moving his hand in and out of Bucky again, this time adding another finger. Bucky’s body jerked at the addition, but he didn’t protest. His hips didn’t shy away from Steve anymore, instead meeting his touch whenever he would pull back. Betraying his desperateness for Steve to be back inside him. 

Steve could feel Bucky’s slick building up, slowly coating his fingers and making it that much easier to slip inside. 

“God, Stevie,” Bucky said when Steve began moving to a gentle rhythm, mouth trailing over his skin as he did. He’d raised his free hand to wrap around Bucky’s chest, fingers playing with sensitive nipples. “I’ve always wanted... always needed you.” His breathing was getting heavier, and Steve could feel his slick dripping out of him now, overwhelming Steve’s fingers. The knowledge sent a new wave of arousal over him.

“Did you think about me?” Steve asked suddenly, unable to help himself as he pushed farther into Bucky, angling his fingers to hit deeper, harder. “Whenever we’d spend your heat apart, did you--” 

“Yes,” Bucky moaned, jerking back against Steve’s fingers before shivering. “God, always. I always, ah, imagined you touching me, inside of me.” He groaned again, head dropping forward against the wall, shaking a bit. “Fuck. I always wanted you. Needed you--” He groaned again and Steve paused his movements, letting Bucky regain himself. “It was never enough. Everything I did, thinking only about you, it was never enough.” 

Steve pressed his fingers deeper inside Bucky, his other hand pinching hard over his nipple and eliciting a mixed cry of pleasure and pain as Bucky slumped forward. 

“Just like that,” Bucky mumbled, voice going pitched. “God, just like that. Keep doing that. Fuck, Stevie. _Fuck-_” 

Bucky trembled as he came, groaning even after Steve stilled and slowly pulled his fingers out. His slick was dripping down his ass by then and Steve couldn’t stop himself from grinding his hips over it, wanting so badly to take Bucky right then and there. 

Eventually, Bucky turned around and his gaze moved up and down Steve’s body, eyes no longer reluctant. Rather, he looked hungry. 

“Why are you still dressed?” 

Steve laughed lightly, smiling. “Sorry.” He remedied it by removing his shirt and Bucky instantly reached out a hand, curling in the hair on his chest. “Better?” 

Bucky pressed himself eagerly against Steve, inhaling deeply. He looked up then, eyes razor sharp. “Bedroom?” 

Steve ran a hand through his hair, chuckling at the determined look on Bucky’s face. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.” 

Bucky waited only long enough for Steve to undress completely before pushing him back on the bed. As Steve sat up, Bucky was already on his knees between Steve’s legs. A hand wrapped around his cock, stroking a bit, as Bucky leaned down, mouth poised just so over it. He smirked when he met Steve’s gaze. 

“Don’t tell me you want to stop now?” Bucky teased and Steve replied only by grabbing a fist full of Bucky’s hair and dragging his smug mouth over his cock. 

Bucky sputtered momentarily, glaring, before falling into a rhythm, content to let Steve take the lead and slowly fuck his mouth. Steve was large even by Alpha standards, and seeing Bucky so eager, lips stretched wide to take all of him in, sent him spiraling in his lust. 

“Feels good,” Steve assured as he closed his eyes, hand dropping away to let Bucky move as he wanted. God, why hadn’t they done this earlier? His hand could hardly compare. “Just like that.” 

Bucky hummed, pleased, and Steve felt his cock twitch in his mouth, a new wave of arousal coursing through him. It wasn’t enough. He needed more. Wanted to more. 

Bucky’s mouth left him then, and Steve opened his eyes to find Bucky climbing into his lap, straddling him. “I need you,” Bucky explained, as if it made whatever he was doing obvious. He grabbed Steve’s now hard cock, moving it just so against his ass before sinking down and slipping it inside of him. 

Steve grunted as his cock slid inside of Bucky, so slick and wanting it was almost too easy. Bucky moaned, head thrown back as he rocked against Steve, moving his cock inside of him until he found a comfortable position. Bucky leaned down to kiss Steve while he did, mouth warm and desperate. 

“Just give me a minute,” he said between kisses, moving his hips every few moments as he settled around Steve, getting used to the stretch of the large cock inside of him. Steve felt like he might come right then and there with Bucky so tight and wet around him, enveloping him like nothing else ever had. 

“Buck,” Steve said after a few more messy kisses, the effort of holding himself back becoming almost painful as Bucky twitched on top of him. “I’ve got to move. Please, I...” 

Bucky kissed him again, long and slow, before nodding. “Okay,” was all he said, and Steve was moving in an instant. 

Hands gripped under Bucky’s thighs, Steve lifted him easily and turned them so when they collapsed back on the bed Bucky was underneath him, groaning as Steve’s cock entered him again, more forceful than before. 

Steve couldn’t wait any longer as he felt his own arousal shoot through him, washing over him every time he slid deeper into Bucky, earning him soft whimpers and loud moans of approval. God, Bucky felt so good around him, so warm and wet, and he didn’t think he could ever stop fucking him. 

Instinct took over as he pushed Bucky’s knees farther apart to press his hips closer and get himself deeper inside Bucky. Bucky was ever pliant against him, mouth open and wanting when Steve reached down to kiss him, teeth dragging across lips. Bucky’s arms pulled at Steve’s shoulders and his fingers dug deep into his skin, holding fierce. 

“Fuck, Steve,” Bucky whined when Steve had built up a rhythm. He could feel his knot start to swell, and the pleasurable sensation of Bucky around him only increased. He was so wet now, so wanting and needy, Steve’s mind began to grow possessive, desperate.

_Mine_, he thought fiercely and his scent must have exuded something similar because Bucky was whining in reply, smelling of such submission to Steve’s scent that he couldn’t help himself any longer. 

Steve pulled himself completely out, kissing him quiet when Bucky protested. “Turn around,” he commanded and Bucky did as he was told, sinking into the mattress face first with hips canting up, wanting.. 

Steve let his gaze linger on Bucky’s body, eyes raking over every scar and divot he could find. Bucky moved his head, eyes turning back to find Steve. 

“Stevie, please,” Bucky begged, raising his hips, and Steve answered by spreading his thighs apart, now drenched with slick. He grabbed Bucky’s hips to raise them higher, bringing Bucky partially to his knees, before sliding back inside. 

Bucky jerked forward into the mattress, burying a moan into the pillows by his head. Steve doubled over as Bucky squeezed around him, hips jerking back. 

“Christ, Buck,” Steve cursed before pulling back out. Bucky lifted his head just as Steve slid back in, and this time his yell of pleasure wasn’t muffled. “You like that?” Steve punctuated the point with another deep thrust, to which Bucky whimpered, nodding his head. “You like when I’m inside of you?” 

Bucky groaned again as Steve’s thrusts continued. His knot was growing now, and his hips were moving faster as the pleasure of being inside Bucky seemed to increase. Bucky was feeling the same, if the squirming and twitching of his body beneath Steve was anything to go by. His hands clawing at the sheets as Steve continued fucking him. 

“Fuck,” Steve said, stuttering his next thrust as his knot finally peaked, holding him inside Bucky. He could still move, but only shallowly, grinding in deeper. It felt so good as he moved and he curled himself over Bucky’s back, hands on either side of his body as he pressed himself further, needing more. 

“Buck,” Steve groaned, head dropping to Bucky’s neck as a growl tore itself from his throat. His thrusts began to get more desperate, the muscles of his stomach coiling as he focused only on the feel of Bucky tight around him, of the sweet sounds Bucky was making. “Shit-” His mouth moved over Bucky’s neck, chasing the overwhelming scent of him, wanting it so badly. He dragged his teeth over the skin of Bucky’s nape, and Bucky arched under the touch. 

Steve’s thrusts were uncontrolled now, his mind racing, overwhelmed with thoughts of _Bucky, mine, Bucky, alive, Bucky, Bucky_.... 

Steve hesitated as his teeth clamped over Bucky’s neck, cock buried deep inside him as he felt himself so close to coming. But then Bucky turned his head, speaking so softly between panting gasps, that Steve almost didn’t hear him. 

“I’m yours, Stevie. Only ever...” 

_Yours_. 

Steve couldn’t stop himself after that, teeth digging firmly into Bucky’s neck, drawing blood. He could taste the copper in his mouth, felt the warmth of it on his tongue, but he didn’t care, couldn’t. Not when he had Bucky pressed underneath him, his own cock buried so deep he couldn’t think of anything else. His tongue lapped at the blood he’d drawn with his bite, and Steve came inside of Bucky on his next thrust, growling low and possessive as he did. He stuttered his hips through his orgasm, moving inside Bucky, filling him to the brim. God, it felt so good. 

Bucky’s body was twitching and shivering beneath him when Steve finally felt his knot deflate, allowing him to pull out. Bucky had come soon after him, clenching desperately around Steve’s cock as he did, but small aftershocks seemed to be still rolling through him, his entire body sensitive to the touch. 

Steve sat back to take in Bucky’s thoroughly fucked form, the freshly placed mark on his neck, blood dark and drying. He let his hands roam over Bucky’s ass as he stilled, eyes drawn to the way slick and cum dripped out of him. Steve ran a hand along Bucky’s wet thighs, collecting the mixture before smearing it over his cheeks, across his hips. God, it smelt so much of him that Steve wanted to rub it all over Bucky, to let everyone know that he was his now and no one else’s. 

Eventually, Bucky pulled himself upright, knees tucking under himself as he sat up, shaky. When he looked at Steve his eyes were wet with tears and his expression was distant, almost hazy. 

“Buck?” Steve asked, reaching out. Bucky didn’t seem to notice, expression still elsewhere as if he were half-asleep. 

“Hey,” Steve tried again, moving closer. He grabbed Bucky’s face with his hands, guiding his gaze back to him. Trying to help him focus. “Hey, it’s me. It’s Steve. I’m here.”

Bucky seemed appeased by that and nuzzled into Steve’s touch, closing his eyes. Steve let one hand slide until he brushed a thumb over Bucky’s bruised bottom lip. Bucky’s tongue darted out to taste and Steve smirked, kissing him gently. 

He reached a hand down between them, slicking his fingers again before bringing them back up to Bucky’s lips. He dragged them across his mouth until Bucky captured them, sucking gently, tongue lapping. Steve felt something primal settle low in his stomach, and his now soft cock twitched at the sight of Bucky sucking on his fingers, half dazed, erotic. 

“Christ, Buck,” Steve exhaled as Bucky let him move his fingers deeper into his mouth, spreading his lips wide. As he did, Bucky’s awareness seemed to come back to him. His eyes began to grow more aware, noticing Steve more and following his movements. 

When Bucky nipped his fingers a bit too hard, Steve jerked his hand back. “Buck, what--” 

Bucky was looking at him now with a smirk on his face, eyes going for some kind of innocence. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” His tone was light, but Steve could hear the smugness underneath. 

“Very funny,” he replied, popping the wounded fingers into his own mouth, sucking gently. He didn’t ignore how Bucky’s gaze seemed to linger on the action. 

“Your already hard again?” Bucky mused, and Steve looked down to see his now half-hard cock standing at attention. 

Steve looked away, feeling bashful. “Sorry, I--” 

Bucky pushed himself forward, pressing slick and cum stained lips to Steve’s, tongue pushing to be where Steve’s own fingers had just been. “Don’t apologize. Here.” 

Bucky laid himself back on the bed, curling to his side. He looked at Steve over his shoulder. 

Steve followed instinctively and wrapped himself around Bucky. One arm cradled his head while the other laid over Bucky’s chest, trailing fingertips up and down. His cock rested firmly against Bucky’s ass, and Bucky sighed deeply at the contact. 

Steve kissed the side of Bucky’s face, his jaw, as he reached down to spread Bucky again, wide enough for him to slide back inside, still full of slick and cum. God, the thought made Steve’s whole body light up with want, followed by the knowledge that Bucky was his now. _All mine_. 

_I’m yours_, Bucky’s body seemed to reply as Steve thrust inside of him, slow and firm. Bucky’s whole body smelled of Steve, and Steve wondered how long it could last. If he could make it last longer. 

Bucky grabbed at the hand resting over his stomach, tugging. “Stop thinking,” he said, voice soft and practically purring. 

Steve planted a kiss to his neck, just above the new mark, and obliged. 

The team didn’t say anything when it happened, but Steve could tell they knew. Could tell by the simple fact that Bucky smelled so much of him now that even he could feel overwhelmed by it. But no one pried initially, only ever giving long pats on the arm or a knowing grin whenever Bucky leaned into Steve and Steve wouldn’t even hesitate to reciprocate, so in tune with giving whatever Bucky needed from him. 

Bruce was the only one who mentioned it explicitly, and that’s only because he was Bucky's doctor. He was constantly helping Bucky grow more confident during his heats, to learn why his body may react differently than other omegas and what that could mean for Steve and his relationship. Steve was always there during these talks whenever Bucky wanted him to be, but he’s never been concerned by Bruce’s words. Steve had Bucky now and he was staying, and that was more than Steve ever thought he’d be able to ask for. 

Of course, Bucky had to push for more. 

“What about kids?” he asked quietly one day, hands firm around the edge of the examining table. Steve stood beside him, one hand laid atop his knee, reassuring. “Do you think there would ever be a possibility that I could…” He let the words trail, seeming unable to say the rest. 

Bruce gave him a comforting smile, scrolling through his Starkpad. “Actually, I’m glad you mentioned it. It was actually Tony who suggested I send your physical details to Wakanda. Apparently, the prince owes him a favor.” Bruce seemed to find whatever he was looking for, and smiled. “From the looks of it, under the condition that you follow the proposed regimen of medicine, physical therapy, and weekly examinations, there is a possibility. The chance of success will still be slim, but not entirely impossible.” 

Steve’s hand squeezed hard over Bucky’s knee, and he could smell the excitement on him, the eagerness. The hope. “We’ve been able to do far more with less, doc.” 

Time passed quickly after that. Steve and Bucky settled easily into their new home, found a place for both of them amongst the Avengers, and everything else seemed to fall into place around that. For the first time in a long time, Steve felt truly happy. Content. 

“Steve, wait.” 

Steve growled into Bucky’s skin, unable to hide the annoyance in his scent. Bucky sighed in response, nuzzling his cheek against Steve’s hair. He’d just returned from the gym, sweat still slick on his skin, clinging to him, and the arousal Bucky had exuded at the sight had been far too much for Steve to ignore. 

“Still just a kid,” Bucky chided fondly and Steve bit at his skin in retaliation, hips thrusting forward, needy. Bucky only hummed, obviously lavishing in Steve’s scent. Steve could smell the anticipation on him, the want, but he was holding it back. 

Bucky pulled himself away from Steve, a reassuring smile on his face as he dropped to his knees. Steve watched him press his cheek against Steve’s thigh, purring contentedly, before pulling at the band of his shorts, tugging slowly. 

When he had Steve exposed, cock already half-hard, Bucky wrapped a hand around it and stroked slowly. He nuzzled the skin between hip and cock, and Steve focused on increasing his scent, knowing it would be strongest there and hopefully overwhelm Bucky with his desire to keep going. 

Bucky’s eyes shot upward and, if their dilation was anything to go by, Steve knew he was reading him loud and clear. 

Bucky moved his mouth over Steve’s cock slowly, lips stretching over the width, barely fitting. Steve jerked forward when he felt himself hit the back of Bucky’s throat, warm and wet in the best way. Bucky half-choked at the sudden movement, but it quickly morphed into a groan as he moved his tongue along the underside of Steve, obviously enjoying the taste of him even post-workout. 

“Christ, Buck,” Steve said, hand in Bucky’s hair and holding tight. He closed his eyes as Bucky moved over him, languid and slow, and it was enough to send Steve into a spin. If he wasn’t careful, he’d come right then and there. 

Steve pulled at Bucky’s hair, pulling him away, and Bucky’s mouth moved off of his cock with a wet pop. Saliva had dripped out of his mouth while Steve had occupied it and he wiped a hand quickly over his lips, red and slick. 

“Shower,” Steve commanded more than asked, and Bucky nodded eagerly. 

“Whatever you want,” Bucky offered before kissing Steve, the taste of lavender and need overwhelming him. 

Steve just grinned into the kiss, and worked at getting Bucky out of his shirt. 

“God, Stevie,” Bucky groaned, face pressed against the tile of the shower as Steve pushed back into him from behind, hands holding his hips in place. Bucky squirmed at the reentrance, hands scrabbling for purchase against the slick wall. The shower ran beside them, warm steam rolling in the air around them and fogging up the usually clear shower walls. 

“Don’t tell me I’m too much for you,” Steve teased on a particularly hard thrust, and Bucky whined at the feeling, body trembling. He was slick enough for Steve to enter easily, but it didn’t stop Bucky from clenching around him, tight and warm. 

Bucky huffed a laugh when Steve pulled back out, turning his head. “Never,” he breathed and Steve felt his chest tighten, knowing what Bucky meant. He loved Steve’s cock, the size, length, everything, and he had always been vocal about it, even when he was just another sickly kid from Brooklyn. God, Bucky was almost too much for him sometimes. 

“Good,” Steve replied and let his cock slide between Bucky’s ass, making him whine with the loss of contact. He hummed, hand roaming over his back and trailing up his spine before spreading over the mark at Bucky’s neck. God, just the sight of it was intoxicating. 

“Steve,” Bucky begged when Steve made no sign of moving, and Steve brought his hand down to slap against Bucky’s ass, hard enough to sting. “Fuck,” he stuttered out, hips jerking back into Steve. 

“You like that?” Steve asked before spreading Bucky apart with his hands, admiring the way his slick dripped out of him. _And you thought you’d never be able to get wet for me_. He moved back into Bucky slowly then, enjoying the view of his cock disappearing into him. 

Bucky swore as he did, words barely understandable as he dropped his head, one hand pounding against the wall in a fist. “Fuck, Steve. Please,” he practically cried, and Steve let the satisfaction he felt at the words mix into his scent, too loud for Bucky to ignore. 

“God, you--” Bucky began, a complaint on his tongue, but Steve silenced it with a hard, deep thrust. He pushed Bucky’s thighs farther apart with a knee, allowing him to go deeper, to hit just right. “Fuck you.” 

Steve couldn’t stop his breathy laugh at Bucky’s stuttered curse, body shaking enough that Steve wrapped his arms around his waist to keep him upright. “I mean, I’m not saying it’s a hundred percent off the table.” 

Bucky craned his head over his shoulder, eyes wide and hazed. “God, Stevie, you can’t just--” 

Steve leaned up to kiss the side of his mouth, halting his words. Bucky relaxed into the contact, turning back around as Steve grabbed under his thigh and lifted his leg as high as it could go. The new angle made Bucky throw his back, weight practically falling entirely on Steve now, and Steve met it eagerly, cock throbbing inside of Bucky. God, he felt so good. 

Steve couldn’t help himself then, hips moving faster as he let his teeth drag over Bucky’s neck, pulling at the still healing skin. God, the smell alone was almost too much, and the knowledge of what the mark meant, what it would continue to mean for the two of them, left Steve growling possessively against it, causing Bucky’s ass to tense and eagerly meet his thrusts halfway. 

Steve was close now, and by the way Bucky was shuddering against him so was he, and the thought only pushed Steve farther, made him want Bucky even more. “You’re so good for me, Buck. So wet and slick. So willing to let me fill you up, make you mine.” 

Bucky whined at the words, seeming unable to make his own coherent as he grew closer to orgasm, scent growing, flooding the space around them. 

“Mine,” Steve breathed, closing his eyes on his next thrust and feeling Bucky’s body twitch as he came, shaking against Steve as he cried out. One hand even reached back for Steve, to pull him closer as Bucky chased the pleasure of his own orgasm. 

“Steve,’” Bucky said, shouting his name over and over until Steve felt overwhelmed by it, his own stomach muscles tightening. 

In that moment, Steve knew it was enough. Would always be enough. Bucky shouting his name and hands reaching for him, being so vulnerable and owned by him. It didn’t matter if they could have that white picket fence life. It didn’t matter if Bucky could ever have kids. Christ, having Bucky beneath him, alive and wanting, needing Steve, was more than enough. 

“I love you,” Steve said as he came, pressing into Bucky and savoring the way his body moved at the sensory overload, the noises that poured from his mouth involuntarily as his body acted on instinct only. Overwhelmed. 

“Love you, too,” Bucky finally rasped out as Steve stilled, pulling out of him. Steve ran a hand through the slick and cum that dripped out of him, moving it up and over Bucky’s ass, loving the smell of him across Bucky’s skin. 

He moved sticky fingers over Bucky’s neck, small, gentle touches over the edges of torn skin, and Bucky sighed, pleased. Steve nuzzled his face against his neck, mouth moving slow and languid over slick skin, and was content. 

Steve felt like he couldn’t breathe. 

“Bruce?” he heard himself ask, needing confirmation of what he’d just heard. 

Bruce gave him a sympathetic smile. “Congratulations, Steve. You’re going to be a father.” 

Steve felt the entire world slow down to that moment. It was like his life was flashing before his eyes: His time in Brooklyn getting beaten up in back alleys. Being Captain America on stage with ten Star Spangled Singers. Traveling miles to find Bucky, fighting a war with him, losing him. Finding him again in DC. All of it colliding into right now— 

“Steve.” 

Steve pulled himself from his thoughts and looked down. Bucky’s hand was wrapped firmly around his, warm and real. His eyes were a bit wide, and he could smell the apprehension on him. The lingering fear. 

“I’m here, sweetheart,” Steve assured, squeezing that hand back before pressing a firm kiss into his hair. “I’ll always be right here.” 

Bucky seemed to ease at the touch. I know, he didn’t have to say. They both knew there was nowhere else either of them would ever want to be than where they were right then, there, together. 

Steve still couldn’t get used to the sight of Bucky, his stomach small and protruding in a distinct round bump. He could still hide it well enough behind one of Steve’s sweatshirts, which he took to wearing more and more often. Bruce said it might happen, that Omegas tend to seek out their mate’s scent in order to soothe and comfort. But the sight of Bucky sitting on their couch in their apartment wearing Steve’s clothes while pregnant was just so goddamn domestic he had trouble wrapping his head around it all. Sometimes he wondered if he deserved it, any of it, at all. 

“Steve,” Bucky whined from the couch, hand pressed protectively over his stomach and eyes closed. As the weeks grew, Bucky became more and more needy for Steve’s presence. Steve didn’t mind much, but the rest of the Avengers were quickly growing weary of finding them cuddled together on their common room couch. 

“I’m here, sweetheart,” Steve assured, sitting down beside him. He’d just removed his coat, having gotten back from a meeting with Tony. Just some Avengers stuff, nothing crucial, but Bucky was acting like it had been days. 

Bucky hummed when Steve’s hand met his cheek, nuzzling into the touch. Steve felt himself warm at the sight. 

“You alright?” he asked, unsure of what else to do. Bruce had told him to try and use body language clues to discern what Bucky wanted when he went non-verbal like this. It wasn’t exactly an Omega trait, but could happen when one might be overwhelmed by their first pregnancy. In Bucky’s case, Steve guessed that particular chance was a lot higher. “Buck?” 

“Hmm,” Bucky hummed, turning his face to mouth at Steve’s hand. That was new. 

“Buck?” 

Bucky’s eyes jumped to his and he moved quickly into Steve’s face, practically settling into his lap, mouth reaching for his. Steve obliged, a bit surprised, but Bucky’s scent was calm and pleased so he didn’t see any reason to stop him. 

“Love you,” Bucky said when they parted, lips moving over Steve’s jaw and down his neck. His hands pushed at the bottom of Steve’s shirt, palms pressed firmly against his stomach. “Love you so much.” 

Bucky’s scent shifted then, and Steve tensed. He smelled like he would before going into heat. “Buck, wait--” Bucky’s hands lowered slowly, dipping beneath his pants, as Steve searched his scent. 

No, Bucky wasn’t going into heat. With his pregnancy, it was impossible. Yet all the signs were there in the way Bucky moved, the way his scent shifted, the way his hands moved over him, wrapping around his-- 

“Hey,” Steve said, grabbing Bucky’s wrists, feeling a bit overwhelmed. “What’s wrong, Buck? Are you feeling okay?” 

Bucky just looked annoyed. “I’m fine,” he huffed, and there was the clarity Steve was looking for, the tone of his voice calming him greatly. “Just need you.” 

Steve watched Bucky as he spoke, searching for something that would contradict his words. But there was nothing except the need and desire and unabashed love Bucky was exuding, his eyes practically swimming with the emotions. 

Steve exhaled heavily, removing his hands from Bucky. “What do you need?” 

“You,” Bucky replied easily, expression content as Steve allowed him to expose his cock, already partially hard. Bucky ran a hand over it as Steve let his own hands move soothingly up and down Bucky’s back. “Just you.” 

Steve smiled, kissing Bucky gently. His own hands roamed down over Bucky’s back once more before moving lower, grabbing his ass. “Should probably get you out of those pants first.” 

Bucky moved so quickly Steve couldn’t help but feel a little alarmed. He removed himself from Steve only long enough to tear the sweatpants he was wearing off of his body. He left the sweatshirt on. 

“Buck?” Steve couldn’t help but laugh, not entirely turned off by the sight of a half-naked Bucky in only his sweatshirt, hem falling just above his thighs. 

“Smells like you,” Bucky explained before crawling back into Steve’s lap and kissing him hard, tongue pushing for more.

Steve’s hands roamed over Bucky’s bare ass as they kissed, and his fingers explored until he could feel how wet Bucky already was for him. “Christ, Buck,” he groaned, pressing a finger in slowly as Bucky bucked against him, moaning into their next kiss. 

“Need more,” Bucky said as Steve pressed two fingers inside of him, slow and even, prepping him. Bucky’s hand found Steve’s now hard cock and raised himself onto his knees, moving over it. 

“You sure?” Steve tried to ask, afraid they were going too fast, but Bucky was already lowering himself onto him, crying out at the sensation, head thrown back and voice unabashedly loud. 

Steve grunted at the feeling, Bucky almost too tight around him, but then Bucky was bouncing himself lightly with hands curling against his chest, holding tight. 

“Feels good,” Bucky said on an exhale, and Steve let his hands roam around Bucky’s sides before landing on his stomach. God, he could feel the way the skin there pulled taut and smooth, so different from the rest of Bucky. 

“Yeah?” Steve asked, suddenly aware of the fact that Bucky was pregnant and sitting on his cock. “If it’s too much, I can--” 

Bucky shot Steve a look and squeezed around him, almost painful. “I’m pregnant, not broken, Steve.” He ground himself down around Steve as if to make his point. “I’m okay.” 

Steve watched him, unsure, and Bucky actually rolled his eyes before wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck, pulling him close. “I’m an ex-Hydra assassin turned Avenger. I think I can handle getting fucked by you while pregnant.” 

The words snapped Steve out of whatever paranoid thoughts he’d been falling into, and something more carnal sparked within him, like a fire stoking, low and warm. “You know I’m going to have to make you eat those words, now,” Steve said, desire coursing through him now, unabashed. 

Bucky only grinned, practically purring at the words. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t,” he shot back, and laughed as Steve scooped him and toward the bedroom. 

“I swear to god, Rogers, if you don’t—“ 

Bucky’s words were interrupted by another scream, eyes clenched shut as he hunched over. His hands dug deep into Steve’s arms, most likely bruising. 

“Deep breaths,” Steve instructed as calmly as he could, eyes roaming frantically. Where the hell was Tony? “Come on now, breathe in—“ 

Bucky released Steve’s arm to curl a hand into the collar of his shirt, threatening. “Tell me to breathe one more time and I’ll—“ He grit his teeth at the next surge of pain, body wavering. 

The door to the lab opened and Tony came running in, looking frazzled. “The quinjet’s all set. We should be there in under ten minutes.” 

“Make it five,” Bucky demanded, eyes looking a bit clearer. He stood from the examination table with a low grunt, hand over his swollen belly. 

“Good thing there aren’t speed limits in public air space,” Tony joked, reaching out a helping hand when Bucky got closer, Steve practically attached to his side and unwilling to move. “Not that it isn’t frowned upon to go almost Mach 3 in government airspace, but—“ 

Bucky let out another cry of pain, and Steve threw Tony a desperate look. 

“Why can’t we just do it here?” he asked, unable to discern how the medical equipment all around them wasn’t capable of delivering a single baby. 

Tony had the audacity to look appalled. “I’m sorry, does my lab look like a maternity ward to you? I mean, sure, Bruce could probably pass for a midwife, but—“ 

“Less talking, more getting me to the hospital, yeah?” Bucky interrupted, looking more terrible by the minute. Steve was sure he’d never loved the man more. 

Urged by doctors to extend Bucky’s stay due to his unique biological circumstances, he and Steve were finally able to return home after three days in the hospital. By the time they’d opened their apartment door, it took everything in Steve not to just collapse onto the nearest flat surface. 

Bucky seemed to share the sentiment even while cradling a small, blanketed bundle in his arms. “I can’t believe she slept the whole way here.” 

Steve set down the gift basket and congratulatory balloons they’d received from the team. Embarrassing, yet heartfelt. Bucky had actually cried. “Would you rather her scream and cry?” 

Bucky rolled his eyes. He was rocking back and forth now, eyes trained on his new daughter. Their daughter. “She’s really something, Stevie,” he exhaled quietly, voice full of wonder. 

Steve walked up beside him and reached out, gently running a finger over the child’s cheek. Her eyes fluttered open, watching, before shutting again. “She has your eyes.” 

Bucky smirked. “Yeah, well. Let’s hope that doesn’t mean she got your attitude.” 

Steve feigned hurt as Bucky moved to kiss him, gentle and sweet. 

“I love you,” Steve said in return, arm wrapping around Bucky and keeping him close. “Both of you.” 

Bucky looked back down at their daughter, smiling. “Still think Sarah is a good name?” 

Steve watched his daughter yawn silently, her tiny face scrunching. “I think it’s absolutely perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! Oh, wait. What's that? An epilogue, you say? Who could have guessed. 
> 
> Bear with me one more time?


	4. Epilogue

Steve rubbed at his face, smudged with ash and dried blood. He must have gotten nicked pretty good in the fight. 

“Idiot,” Bucky huffed as he used his sleeve to rub at the smear, frowning. “Any word from Sarah?” 

Steve shook his head. “Peter told me he’d watch out for her. Can’t believe she’s already forming her own team.” 

Bucky just shrugged, walking alongside Steve as they entered Avenger’s Tower. The ride on the quinjet had been long enough that the sun was already setting, and Steve was sure to get an earful from Sharon by the time they got home. 

Bucky’s phone went off then and he looked at Steve, expression dubious. “Speak of the devil.” He accepted the incoming call, and Sharon Carter’s face filled the screen. It was quickly overcome by two smaller faces that made Steve stand a little straighter. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” he said over Bucky’s phone as Maggie pushed at George to take up most of the screen. 

“Hi, daddy!” she said, blue eyes wide as she looked between Steve and Bucky. “Auntie Sharon said you’d be home before dinner.” 

Bucky made a guilty face. “Sorry, Maggie. Your fathers don’t move as quickly as we used to.” Steve rolled his eyes at that, and Maggie laughed. 

George popped back into screen, green eyes narrowed. “Is Rich gonna be in trouble? You said he had to be back before dark and it's already dark,” he explained, looking eager at the chance to get his older brother in trouble. 

Steve sighed. “No, Richard isn’t in trouble.” 

“Yet,” Bucky added, and Greorge’s grin grew even wider. He disappeared off screen and it was just Sharon now, looking absolutely exhausted. 

“How’d everything go?” she asked, pausing a moment to yell at Maggie for pushing George. “Still in one piece I see.” 

“We’re not dead yet,” Steve quipped, and Bucky elbowed him. “We’re really sorry about the delay. We’ll be home as soon as we can.” 

“If Stark doesn’t drag on like he did last time,” Bucky added. 

Steve nodded. “Right. How’s Natalie?” 

“Asleep,” Sharon said, motioning vaguely across the home. They’d moved out of their apartment after having George, needing more space than Tony could build within one floor of an old apartment complex. It also hadn’t been fair to the owner to take over an entire floor with screaming, possibly super-serumed kids. Thankfully, only Sarah had proven to be as strong as her fathers, but Steve wasn’t holding out any hope just yet. “I was honestly surprised she didn’t pass out sooner.” 

“That’s because she’s stubborn,” Bucky explained, looking at Steve. “Just like her father.” 

“Which one?” Sharon asked before Steve could reply, and Bucky looked hurt by the implication. “Just get back as soon as you can. I have a very long bath waiting for me at home. There may or may not be wine involved.” 

Steve sighed. “Red or white?” They’d been down this road before. 

“Red,” Sharon said in a cheery tone, but her eyes said anything but. Steve realized they should be moving a lot faster than they were. “Thirty minutes, then?” 

Bucky looked at Steve who nodded gravely. “Thirty minutes it is.” He waved, and Sharon waved back before ending the call. “Think we can do it in twenty?” 

Steve thought a moment. “Maybe if we can get Tony to give us a lift...” 

“Already on it.” Bucky was quickly scrolling through his phone, pulling up his photos. 

Steve looked away, sighing. “Do I want to ask what you’re looking for?” 

“No,” Bucky replied easily, a smug grin on his face. “But I can assure you it will get us home very quickly.” With a swipe of the finger his phone dinged, sending something. Almost instantly his phone began ringing, showing an incoming call. 

“You’re evil,” Steve said, but not before kissing Bucky. 

Bucky kissed him back, swiping to decline the call. “Yeah, but you mated me anyway.” 

Steve laughed and wrapped one arm around Bucky’s waist, pulling him close. “Yeah, I did.” 

Steve’s phone began buzzing in his uniform and he pulled it out, confused. It was an incoming call from Sarah. 

“Hi, honey,” Steve said, trying not to sound too panicked. “Everything alright?” 

Sarah huffed on screen, annoyed. She was dressed for combat and her blond hair was pulled back in a high ponytail. Steve felt a surge of pride come over him. “Can I ask why Mr. Stark keeps trying to call me? He’s even started leaving messages.” She made a face, as if that was the worst part. “Do I want to know what you two did?” 

Bucky stifled a laugh off screen, pulling away from Steve. “Better hurry,” he mouthed, silent, before disappearing around the hallway corner. 

Steve closed his eyes. “No, don’t worry about it. Just ignore him. Are you coming home tonight?” 

Sarah’s eyes darted off screen. “Not sure. We’ve kind of got our hands full here at the moment.” There was a sound of gunfire in the distance, and Steve felt his heart drop. 

“Please tell me you didn’t call while in active combat,” Steve bemoaned, already knowing his answer. 

There was a cry of pain nearby, and Sarah smiled. “Gotta go, dad. Love you.” 

“Love you, too,” Steve replied back, and the screen quickly went black. 

_White picket fence, my ass_, he thought, feeling suddenly exhausted. 

Unfortunately, he knew he wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who is reading! And thank you very much to SorceressoftheFake for providing me with such awesome material! This has been such a joy to write, and a journey I will never forget. 
> 
> Please check out my tumblr at daydreamjamesdean for more information about this piece.


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